


What They Saw, What They See

by Lady_Lilith



Category: Game - Fandom, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 12:34:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24969790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Lilith/pseuds/Lady_Lilith
Summary: Re-write of Season 8 of Game of Thrones.Begins at the start of the final season of GOT. Battles will be different from the show. Conversations and characters will act differently from Season 8 to some degree.There's no tine for fighting each other. Not with the Night King and his armies close to Winterfell's gates. Identities called into question like loyalties. Where honor and forgiveness determine who survives to Spring.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister, Sansa Stark/Willas Tyrell
Comments: 102
Kudos: 77





	1. What They Saw on Dragonstone

**Author's Note:**

> Think of this prologue as a recap of Season 7 of sorts. With clips of previous seasons of Daenerys.

What They Saw on Dragonstone

[Set before Daenerys lost her allies. This is a prelude of thoughts certain characters have pertaining to the Mother of Dragons.]

Her eyes held the heat of newly formed stars. No matter her expression or mood. The fire and heat in her blood will remain burning. That is the conclusion Davos Seaworth came to in regard to the Dragon Queen, Daenerys of House Targaryen.

The fire isn't bad. Jon Snow thought, regarding the woman's stern but gentle nature in her eyes. A liberator. A queen loved by the cities and citizens of Mereen, Yunkai, and Astapor. She shook, burned, and challenged any Noble who would keep another person in chains and submission. Jon Snow can only admire her for her accomplishments. Although, he knew, the Lords of the North would gladly forget all the good she has done and wants to do just to call her the Mad King’s daughter. But from what he heard about the fate of the Faith Militant and the Tyrell family who were in King’s landing, Cersei Lannister fit that title more than anyone.

Blood of the Dragon. An interesting phrase. Tyrion Lannister. He theorized and contemplated the effects of being a dragon head on Daenerys. From all that he could gather, Viserys Targaryen called himself a Dragon. He was burned and he was mad. That much was certain. So, Tyrion theorized that it is not the blood of the dragon that leads to or causes madness. He theorized that it was the lack of magic or sanity. After all, Daenerys has made many miracles happen. Sure, she has a slight tendency to want to burn things. Tyrion acclimated that to being her way I'm honoring her house motto.

Fire isn't a way to go. But when under the right power, or in this case, person, it can be controlled. Varys has kept tabs on the Targaryen girl all of her life. He had been hesitant and helping her or her brother, but Robert Baratheon was a useless King, a man meant for battle. For war. Viserys Targaryen had been raised too long to admire his father in his madness. Daenerys though... She only grew up on the biased stories of her family from her brother. So far, Varys had been betting on her to take the iron throne. Her service to the people in Essos is revered and feared. Many common people hope for her liberation. Many nobles hope and not see her dragons. But she has burned people, she has sentence meant to die by fire or knife. It is hard for Varys to pinpoint if he should allow her to rule. Her budding relationship with Jon Snow, the bastard of Ned Stark, King of the North, the White Wolf. The dragons don't seem to mind him to an extent. Perhaps it is because of his closeness to their Mother, the Targaryen Queen. Perhaps it has to do with his unknown mother. Perhaps it is a coincidence...


	2. What They See, What They Hear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of Episode 1.

What They See and What They Hear  
Immediately begins with the reunion of the Stark family Season 8 Episode 1. With more words and sense.

Sansa Stark was a cold woman. She could admit that to herself. She’d most likely never marry ever again. She’d likely be very choosy about whom she lets in her bed. But she knew she’d never marry. So, she knew, Jon was the only hope for the Stark family. He’d likely marry one of these pestering Lord’s daughters and the North would be free of the six remaining kingdoms. But her plans were complicated by this upcoming Great War. Her brother was solely focused on beating a dead army. So much so that he was bringing a Targaryen to the North. The first since Aegon’s Conquest. With her comes three dragons. Sansa was just thankful that this Daenerys was the only Targaryen left. No brothers to steal her or Arya. But if she is as beautiful as rumors say, she’ll steal Jon. She’ll steal the last hope for the Stark family. Drag him South for him to die like father, mother, and Robb. Drag him from his home never to return. This Targaryen named herself a Queen and was her enemy. Like Cersei, after that ugly Iron Throne. But the people say of what she’s done for the people in Essos. The nobles of what she did to the nobles in Essos. While there is fear rampant in the Nobles towards the Targaryen that has yet to set foot in her home, the people hold a bit of hope in their eyes for a potential savior. Not that Sansa cared much for the people. They didn’t save her from her dear deceased husband. No. It was the Lords of the North and the Vale and their armies, and of course Jon. Sansa was done being the stupid girl and would not play whatever game the Dragon Queen would try to play with her.  


As Sansa stood in line with Bran and Arya, she worried for her brother and protector. Had the Dragon Queen already sunk her talons into Jon? Was her alliance fragile or strong? Were her savages maintainable? Would they rape any of the North’s people? All these questions and worries ceased into fear as roars sounded loudly in the sky above. Instantly, everyone in the courtyard looked to the known source. Dragons. Three mighty and large healthy dragons. Well, two looked healthy. One looked like it was healing from a battle. Its golden scales reflected beautifully in the sun and the tears in its wings were nearly closed. Moments later the horns sounded, and the gates of Winterfell opened to reveal Royalty and Might.  


On horseback side-by-side was Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow. They wore happy expressions and light of excitement in their eyes. Arya was almost dumbfounded. See has now seen dragons flying in the sky, heard their roars, and now a Targaryen rode towards her. Daenerys looked like the Targaryen heroines she read and heard stories about growing up. A dragonglass sword in her belt she wore over her thick woven dress. She looked even more a Queen with the power she radiated as she calmly rode a horse next to her brother. Her brother. Jon looked different. He looked happy despite what he knew was coming. Confidence maybe? Or…more? The King in the North and the Dragon Queen shared a glance before climbing down from their horses. Their company soon followed and crowded together, and who she saw shocked Arya more than she expected. The Hound alive and well. Gendry alive and carrying a hammer and tools on his belt. Gendry was a live after all and before she could rejoice, she saw her. The Red Woman and others dressed like her. There was well over a handful of them in the courtyard now. But she was not leading their group. Another was. She looked foreign. All the dark thoughts that filled her mind went away as her brother and the Dragon Queen came to greet his family.  


Jon wore a bright smile on his face, one they all had never seen before. Sansa immediately put up her walls but gave a small smile as he went to hug her. The Dragon Queen has him in her grasp, she thought. She is a threat to our future despite her coming to help save Westeros. Arya immediately smiled back and was on her toes, waiting for the embrace of her brother after all these years. Jon broke his hug from Sansa and froze at the sight of Arya. Tears were in his eyes as she jumped into his arms and held her for dear life. He muttered “you’re alive” as he held onto his favorite sister. When they broke apart, Arya felt more like herself than she had in years. Her assassin training still drilled into her, but she could be more expressive now that her brother was home and safe. Jon looked down to Bran who looked up at his brother with his expression dead blank and for a moment Jon’s smile faltered till the smallest smile made its way to Bran’s face. Jon bent down and hugged his little brother. His only remaining brother. Bran forced himself to hug him back, much like he did with Sansa. It was simply a touch to Jon’s side, and he kept his hand there till Jon let go. Jon knew something was different about Bran now. Sansa only alluded to it in her letters, but he still wasn’t prepared for this. “It’s like he’s lived more than his own life as Bran. At least that’s what he says. He says it’s hard to remember how to feel about us when his mind goes to different times long before or after our lives began or ended.” That’s what Sansa’s most recent letter had said. Jon now stood tall and stepped back to gesture to the woman now beside him,  


“Sansa, Arya, Bran, Lords and Ladies of the North! This is Queen Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt. She has come to aide us in the Great War and is in alliance with the North. I have pledged loyalty to her and her house, she has pledged ALL her armies and dragons to help us win this war for the living. After we win, we march to end Cersei Lannister. The bane of our existence since she took my sister hostage and killed countless others. Let us all meet in the Great Hall and discuss our plans at once, there is no time to waste!”  
The men and women in the courtyard all cheered and began to move from their positions. Sansa kept her expression cool as the Dragon Queen stepped towards them. Her smile seemed genuine and sweet, but Sansa swears she knows better and does not return the gesture. Her smile falters but she looks at Arya and Bran with a glint in her eyes. Sansa mistakes it for malice until she speaks,  


“It is wonderful to meet you three. Jon has told me all about you. He’s been so excited to return and come see you all. As you know, we’ve entered an alliance and I would love to get to know you three. You are Jon’s only family left and the stories he’s told…I can only envy the childhood you had here. You had a home and loving family; I only wish I had the same.”  


Sansa is rendered speechless, so she curtsies and gives a guarded smile in return. Arya curtly nods but smiles nonetheless and Bran… Bran is elsewhere already, his eyes blank and his body motionless. Jon and Daenerys looked worriedly at the young man, but Sansa shakes her head as a few crows crow nearby before flying off,  


“He’s warging. He does it often and we won’t know how long he’ll be gone so we take him with us to the Great Hall or the Heartwood Tree. We’ll have someone bring him to the hall, he uses a different route for his chair.”  


Sansa, ever the proper hostess, leads the entire party to the Great Hall where most of the lords and ladies have gathered on one side of the hall. The other half intended for Daenerys’ people. There are notably more tables in the hall to accommodate everyone. With Daenerys comes ten Dothraki Khals, her top commanders of the Unsullied, Lady Olena and her guard, and the Sand Snakes and their militants. Tyrion Lannister and Barristan Selmy, and Jorah Mormont sit closest to their Queen. Jon sits in the center of the Head table with Sansa on his left, followed by Arya and Bran. Daenerys is on his right with several Dothraki and Unsullied guards close by. Once everyone was settled, their eyes kept glancing across the room in distrust. Jon stood, as did Daenerys, and they addressed their audience,  


“Lords and Ladies of the North, you know my name but not of me. I am Daenerys Targaryen and I was born here in Westeros. In my ancestral home, Dragonstone, where my mother also died as she had given birth to me in haste as assassins were already at our doorstep. Since then, Robert Baratheon had men come to kill my brother and I. We had plenty of guards at first and after a few years none. The last guard we had, sold us for a home in Braavos and tossed us out into the streets. Thus, why I was once called the Beggar Queen. No one dared call my brother such, but I was the quiet and meek one. The sweet one. While my brother had fits that no one could take seriously but wanted to indulge him anyways. So, on my thirteenth nameday, my brother sold me, his sister and one of the last Targaryen’s to a Dothraki Khal. From that day began my path to becoming a Queen and liberating men, women, and children from anyone who would do the same harm. After my husband died, I found my way to Astapor. There, we found temporary salvation, but the nobles there were petty and only wanted to use me. One tried everything short of rape to get me to marry him so he could control my dragons.  


Let me tell you now, Lords and Ladies, I do NOT control my dragons. I am their mother. I was with them from the moment they were born. I have a relationship with them. Dragons are intelligent creatures. They do not think as we do. They think extensively and in many languages that are ingrained in their heritage. Astapor did not fall because of me killing every noble. It fell because the man who wanted my hand conspired with a warlock for power. He had my few remaining loyal Khalasar butchered and stole my dragons. But I found them and when I found them, I had a vision of King’s Landing. The Iron Throne Room. Covered in snow. The roof blasted to bits and snow falling. It was freezing cold. It was empty. It was dead. So, when Jon Snow came to Dragonstone and asked for my help, I listened. It may be stories to you, the White Walkers and the dead, but so were the dragons. People believed they were all gone and yet they fly above us. All legends and stories come from somewhere and it is our history. When we survive this War, let’s make sure those to come do not forget.  


Once we got to Astapor, we sought to buy the Unsullied. To which the Grand Master only wanted one thing. One of my dragons. Between his flashy insults in Valyrian, which he assumed I couldn’t understand, and his disregard for the people, I put a stop to his rule. He had slaves crucified for stealing bread because they were hungry. A small piece of bread lead to a man being nailed to a fixture and left to die for days and days. No food or water. My brother and I had to do the very same in our youth and thankfully were never caught. This, however, was a regular occurrence in Astapor and I had to stop it. I know that the only house in Westeros that would do such a similar thing is no longer alive.”  


Many Lords and Ladies gave small “ayes” to that sentence before Daenerys continued,  


“I gave the master one of my dragons for his whip. The whip that controlled all of the Unsullied.”  


Many of the North looked at her strangely then,  


“But a dragon is not a slave! My son burned the Grand Master and I set the Unsullied on every master in Astapor. Thus, I ended slavery in that city and the Unsullied were at my command. But I discarded the whip and declared to my new army that they could leave freely to live their own lives wherever they please or follow me in my journey. Most of them did and still do. Then we went to Yunkai and that is where I obtained the Second Sons. Their commanders were greedy men. Wanted to rape my translator and friend Missandei and I. They wanted to come out on top even though they were outnumbered. But the youngest commander didn’t want to fight against my armies and as a resolution, killed his fellow officers and pledged his army to me. Then we infiltrated Yunkai and the former slaves did the rest. They wanted their freedom that they deserved, and I gave it to them. Thus, I earned the name Mhysa, which means mother. After that, we came to Meereen. Along the way, the master’s knew we were coming and as a deterrence they did not send out assassins but children.”  


Many of the lords and ladies looked puzzled at what that meant. But most of her advisors and allies knew the story and turned shades of green.  


“They crucified one-hundred and sixty-three children! Their ages all below twelve. The youngest had to be just barely six. The had their bodies pointing to the direction of Meereen as a dare! Some were still hanging on to their lives but none of them were able to see another day. I made sure I saw every one of their faces and when I won Meereen, I did the same to the Masters.”  


She finished her sentence in almost a whisper, but everyone heard. Sansa was beyond bewildered. This was the story of a woman who, had she been in Westeros a few years earlier, would have been Sansa’s savior. Sansa felt conflicted now. She didn’t use fire. She hadn’t used fire to end those men. But she is the Dragon Queen! Maybe they were too small then… but one of them did kill the Unsullied previous employer. Sansa was cut out of her thoughts with the cheering of her people and saw the Dragon Queen lift a hand to silence them and they complied,  


“I did make a mistake though. I didn’t ensure that every crucified master were the ones who voted for the act. To this day I’m not sure if I gave the justice to the right men.”  


The hall was silent, and Jon spoke then,  


“Daenerys is not perfect, but she isn’t mad. I know many of you would compare her to her father first and not her mother or her better ancestors. I am no better. I have killed men and a child who would have me dead at the Wall. I’ve had to kill a man I admired, I killed traitors of the Watch who raped women, broke their vows, and Jeor Mormont. I killed a White Walker and wights, but if you think I don’t lose sleep over the deaths of my valiant brothers and friends of the watch, you are wrong. I’ve gotten to know Daenerys and her advisors well over these past few months. I did not know her family, but Barristan Selmy did. He’s told us the stories of Rhegar Targaryen. Even he wasn’t mad. Their father was the mad one. Daenerys is here to help so don’t think she’s only here for the Great War. Cersei Lannister swore her army to help us, but we aren’t going to count on the word of the woman who birthed Joffrey Lannister. The word of a woman who blew up a Sept. A place of worship to avoid her own trial for her crimes.”  


Lady Olenna stood abruptly and slammed her hand on the table,  
“My son, my grandson, my granddaughter. She has ended my house. My legacy. My Margery was good. She was making that shit-smelling city better and Cersei killed her because she could. Now the people are hungry, and winter is here! Daenerys had the mind for me to clear my castle and keep our stores on Dragonstone, much harder for that Lioness to reach. Thank goodness for my Queen too, because not a day later Randell Tarly came to Highgarden. He tried to ransack my home! He betrayed his liege for that Lannister bitch and for my home. All for a title Cersei has no right to give: Warden of the Reach! But he didn’t know that Daenerys’s forces were nearby, when they reached my castle to further conspire with the Lannister army lead by Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer, Sisterfucker, and Oathbreaker himself-”  


To Sansa’s left she saw Brienne still herself, disappointment and anger in her eyes. Brienne had given Sansa good word about Jaime Lannister, that he was the reason she could save Sansa in the first place. Sansa could only think, he may be part of the reason I am alive today, but he is still a traitor and horrible man for returning to Cersei after all she did. She told me he stopped the Mad King to save the people of King’s Landing from burning, but still stands beside Cersei as she goes as mad as the Mad King herself. What a hypocrite? If only he’d stab her as well to save us all the trouble.  


“The Dragon Queen came with her Dothraki and depleted their army to shambles. Jaime Lannister was even captured with a man named Sir Bronn of the Blackwater. A slippery fellow with only care of getting paid. Queen Daenerys offered him the better option, his life. Tried to shoot one of her dragons down and was sorely banished for his act. Sent to Meereen to live the rest of his days. Jaime Lannister is still in our custody and will fight in the Great War. He joined your King beyond the Wall and saw for himself what is coming. He pledged himself to Daenerys as repentance for not being able to save her niece and nephew from his father’s men. From the Mountain who raped and murdered Elia Martell and her children.”  


The Sand Snakes hissed and banged their hands on their table in anger and let Olena continue,  


“We also have here, Tyrion Lannister. The Imp, as many of us have called him, always stood out from his family. Was tried for a murder he had no part in-”  


A northern lord, Lord Manderly, cut off Olena,  


“We don’t know that! For all we know, he’s consorting with his brother and sister and for all of us to die. If he did kill that inbred bastard nephew of his then I’d congratulate him and then throw him as far as I can. I don’t trust Lannister’s, no matter what good they do, they’ve done five times worse!”  


Olena stared the man down and he sat under her intense glare before she continued,  


“You may not know, but I know he had no part in it.”  
You could hear every jaw drop, including Tyrion’s and Sansa’s.  


“Lady Sansa, when you told me that Joffrey was a monster, I knew he wasn’t who I’d let my darling girl live the rest of her days with. She was good but she wouldn’t be able to keep him from his violent nature forever! I had a plan with Littlefinger to get Sansa out of King’s Landing and to Highgarden. Littlefinger forsook the plan after Joffrey died to take Lady Sansa to the Vale instead and use her to his advantage. For that Lady Sansa, I am sorry I couldn’t protect you from him. When he left, he also abandoned my granddaughter and grandson. Cersei made the Faith Militant and used them till they turned on her for her sins. They should have kept her down there. By the Old Gods and the New if they knew what she would do, they’d have kept her down there indefinitely.”  


No words were spoken for some time, everyone was seated until Daenerys spoke from her seat in a calm voice,  


“My lords and ladies, I would like to declare that I am not hear to burn your houses down. I am not here to be Queen of the Ashes. I am not here to have my armies pillage and rape your women. I am here to break the wheel. Over the last twenty years the wheel has been turning. First my house was on top, then the Baratheon’s, then the Lannister’s, and for a noticeably short while the Tyrells. When I am done, you all will be free from Cersei and anyone who would fulfill her wishes. To break the wheel means to end the crushing of the people below. Who suffers more than the people during wars? Their villages ransacked. Their women raped. Husbands and fathers murdered. This one is on top then this one is on top. On and on it goes. No more crushing. No more belittling the people who make your clothes, food, castles, and all of it. Without them we are nothing and an exceptionally long time ago, our anqcestors were them.”  


“AYYE!!!!”  


Every person in the hall rang out. Including the red priests and priestesses. Jon looked around at the approving looks of his Northmen and said,  


“Now, let’s discuss our numbers and plan our preparation.”


	3. Private Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 1 Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most episodes will be 2 parts (two chapters) each. So there will definitely be more than 6 episodes in the Season 8 re-write.
> 
> Just to clarify....  
> Dany's Armies are: Dorne's, Highdarden's, the Dothraki, the Unsullied, and a garrison of the Second Sons  
> Dany's Allies and Advisors: Lady Olenna, Ellaria Sand, Yara Grejoy, Theon Greyjoy, Ser Barristen Selmy, Sir Jorah Mormont, Varys, and Tyrion Lannister
> 
> Since the power of teleportation and time skips was introduced in Season 6 (sarcasm), it will be used in this story

Private Discussions  
**_Preparations have begun, now to make some discoveries_**

Twenty feet deep trenches were being dug all around Winterfell in a maze-like fashion. One-hundred feet long, twenty feet deep. The edges and bottom of the pits to be lined with over five-thousand gallons of Wildfire that Jaime and Davos smuggled from King’s Landing. Jaime was glad to have gotten that much but even more frightened of why there was so much beneath the capital city of Westeros. That it was so easy to get. Why the servants simply let him pass and the words they told him,

_“Her majesty’s order is coming along wonderfully. By time those Northern savages and the Dragon Queen come down here, there’ll be enough to cover every inch of their army.”_

The Northern army has ten thousand soldiers. Daenerys Targaryen had one-hundred forty-eight thousand two-hundred soldiers herself, between her allies and the armies she brought from Essos. The wildfire being made could decimate King’s Landing off the map of Westeros. It was then that Jaime knew, his sister was no longer salvageable. She’d burn this city to the ground either before or after the Northern and Dragon Queen’s armies came. It was this realization that drove Jaime to have as much Wildfire smuggled within two days before fleeing the city and his sister. But not before he told the servants in the alcoves what this really meant. Jaime prayed that those servants took his words to heart and spread them. He hoped it spread through the city before the Wildfire could get them. So far, thirteen thousand common people have left the city and fled to Dorne, reports say. 

It was also at the Grand War Council meeting he brought up his findings with Davos and Bronn to back his claim, as well as the handful of Dothraki that Daenerys had disguised to help in his task. The Northern lords were appalled and skeptical until Daenerys let Jaime tell the story of her father that lead to his death. Then the Northern lords and ladies grew pale and cautious. They listened truly then, and they grew nervous for their men and futures. Wildfire was dangerous and volatile. It was Arya though who came up the plan to drench the trenches in the stolen Wildfire,

“Think about it, if we use normal fire, it can be put out easily. When Cersei blew up that Sept, it burned for weeks. And if what Daenerys and Jon saw beyond the wall is true, they’ll be busy with the Ice Dragons. They keep the fire blazing above us and we keep it burning down here. I don’t know if the dead have any tactics but from what Jon told me about Hardhome…”

The Wildlings present in the room all looked like they’d seen ghosts. It was Tormund who continued,

“Hundreds of thousands of them were barreled over! They fell over a cliff, well over a two-hundred-foot drop, and got right back up. They stormed the largest encampment within seconds! Women and children were being loaded into the boats first. My past friends and family fought to keep them at bay, but our weapons did nothing! Nothing was killing them until King Crow faced off the White Walker with his Valyrian sword and killed it. Still, it wasn’t enough. We made it to the boats in time and we saw the Night King then. The Icicle Frozen Bastard simply stared at us from the pier and lifted his arms all slow and creepy. And as they rose, so did our fallen. The fighters, the mothers, and the children we couldn’t save. There was one of the chiefs among them as well. She rose and I had to shield her children’s eyes from the blue ones that once were their mothers!  
You want to know their tactic. Barreling. Brute force. The only ones that don’t fight like animals are the White Walkers. They use style. Style I’ve seen some of you lads’ use. But they send the dead first to lessen your forces, then they bring you back and you fight for them. 

I SAY THIS AS A WARNING TO ALL OF YOU FUCKERS! YOU SEE A FAMILIAR FACE…. DON’T YOU STOP FIGHTING IT! CAUSE IT DOESN’T KNOW YOU! IT DOESN’T LOVE YOU! IT WANTS TO KILL YOU. It no longer has a name or title. It no longer cares for what is right or wrong. It has one job, to kill every living thing in its sight…. Including animals.” 

All the sullen looks of the Wildings told their stories and it was Bran who nodded ever so slightly,

“That’s why Osha and her company got this far South. To get as far away as possible and somewhere warm. All those years in our youth, the signs were there, and we never noticed. The Night’s Watch having members abandoning their posts. The last execution of a deserter Ned Stark did here at Winterfell, he claimed he saw the dead and we all thought him mad. That he was suffering delusions and father made it quick.”

At the reminder of Ned Stark, many in the hall turned solemn. Many of these Lords wished the man were here now to fight with them. Many wondered what would be of the North now if he’d still been living. A few wished he were here instead of Jon Snow. Sansa saw all these thoughts from the expressions in front of her. Worry crept into Sansa’s heart, even with Littlefinger gone, their loyalty remained questionable. She worried that they would still try to place herself or Bran as King in the North over Jon now that the Targaryen and her allies were in Winterfell. Sansa’s thoughts turned dark, not at the Northern Lords, but the Dragon Queen. They had more to discuss than battle plans.

**A Few Days Later**

In the Godswood, Jon and Dany stood alone, talking. Their discussion heated and both trying not to get insulted by implications. Fire and Ice in their continued battle to meet each other halfway. It started awkwardly and soon lead to an argument like the ones they had when they first met. This time though, it was regarding a certain woman.

“She isn’t compliant and is challenging me, Jon. I came here happy to meet your family and so far, only one has spoken to me or in my favor. Sansa doesn’t like me and sees me as a threat regardless of the real threat coming. You heard what Bran said. Those Ice Dragons are burning down the Wall as we speak. We don’t know if the Last Hearth will be evacuated in time or if everyone will even leave their homes! All of this and she starts an argument with me in front of all the northern Lords and Ladies over food our first day here!”

Jon only sighed and tried to not let his temper rise too much,

“Sansa didn’t mean it that way. She’s only concerned about our food stores.”

Daenerys’ eyes flamed,

“'What do dragons eat anyway?’ That’s what she said. Her tone wasn’t of concern, it was condescending. She has to know that Lady Olenna brought her food stores for my armies and yet she challenged me. Jon, I get that you saved her life but-”

His temper flamed as well,

“But what, Dany?”

“Have you seen your brother and sisters? I mean truly seen them since you came here. Or are you seeing what you last saw of them? Bran looks like he’s trying to force any emotion to come out, Arya is a killer, and Sansa was raised by Cersei Lannister.”

Equal heat burned in their eyes from the imminent fight,

“Don’t. Say. That. Sansa has been through a lot with Cersei and King’s Landing. Arya… I don’t know where she’s been. Bran calls himself the Three-Eyed-Raven now, an old tale hardly told unless you wanted to be scared. Bran isn’t scary. Arya is still Arya. Sansa is just guarded.”

Daenerys only scoffed,

“Arya has a slight Bravossi accent. I’ve seen her training with Brienne of Tarth. No knight taught her to fight Jon. I know assassins. I know what assassins are in Bravos. Robert Baratheon was not above hiring assassins that worshiped a Death god. Your little sister trained with them. She is a killer Jon. I doubt it’s something she enjoys for seven hells, but I know a killer when I see one.”

Jon’s heart skipped a beat and then pounded in his chest hard. He let out a breath and took several seconds to calm himself before he began to retort, only to be cut off by the girl in question.

“She’s right Jon.”

He froze and Daenerys shifted her eyes slightly behind his shoulder. They hadn’t heard her come into the place of worship but there she was. Hands behind her back. Shoulders squared and her eyes locked on Jon and Daenerys. Her eyes cold and tracking every movement they made. Jon looked into her eyes and saw it. The emptiness that wasn’t there when he hugged her in the courtyard just days ago. Arya took a few steps closer,

“I was a faceless assassin for a time, but I killed long before I started my training there. My first kill was a boy who wouldn’t let me pass as my dancing tutor was attacked by Cersei’s Gold Cloaks, as I was trying to find father and escape that city. After that, I began to travel to the Wall to find you, but we were captured and brought to Harrenhal. I had to kill three men to escape. After that, I ran into the Hound and he was too big for me to fight, so I traveled with him. The next was a grown man, I used needle. We made it to the Twins just after the Red Wedding happened. I saw the dead bodies of our bannermen, the Hound had to drag me away before I did something foolish. When the Hound and I made it to the Eyrie, Aunt Lysa was already dead and so I presumed all of our family was. That’s when I left for Bravos.”

Jon could only stare at his sister in shock. She went through all of that. Tried to find him, anyone of her family, and there was no one she could find at the time. Just as Jon got deep into his thoughts, Arya cracked an almost sickening smile and said words that chilled him to the bone,

“Now, how much of what I said was the truth, and what was the lie?”

Gobsmacked, Jon could only look almost disgusted,

“Arya!”

She only cocked her head to one side and didn’t change her expression until Daenerys spoke,

“You arrived after the Red Wedding. That was a lie. You killed three men in Harrenhal. That was a lie. You didn’t willingly travel with the Hound…. Not at first. You didn’t run into him. You were with the Brotherhood Without Banners and he stole you after Gendry was sold to Stannis Baratheon’s Red Priestess.”

Arya genuinely looked shocked and then smiled,

“Gendry has a big mouth.”

Daenerys gave a mirroring smile at first but then turned serious,

“Gendry saw more than he lets on. But as for the Red Wedding and Harrenhal, I can tell you had to learn patience. From Jon’s stories of you as a child, I know you wouldn’t have waited till after the wedding. You had to have tried so hard to be there before your brother and mother even went into the castle. But without guards and young horses, it’d be a long journey. You made it to the wedding, but only just before the massacre. I can tell because of your drive. Finding your family was the only option.”

A haunted expression took place of the smile and Arya was herself for a moment,

“We had gotten to the gates and I snuck away from the Hound, trying to find a way inside. I made it to the stables and saw our bannermen outside the kennel they put Greywind in. They were celebrating and eating when some of the Frey’s came out and attacked them. They were dead within seconds and I hid in the shadows. They had crossbows and went to Greywinds kennel, he was trying to break out, but they aimed through the bars and shot him over and over. The shot him till he was barely breathing before they moved on. Greywind saw me then, from the bottom of his cage. He looked at me and I swear his eyes were Robb’s for a moment before life left him too. I tried to make a run for the doors to get to Robb and mother, but the Hound caught me and knocked me out to stop me. But in my daze, I saw. They crudely sowed Greywind’s head onto Robb’s body.  
But before all of that, at Harrenhal, I met my first Faceless Man. I had saved his life and two others. He said three lives were owed to his god and that I only needed to name the names. Instead of ending the war, I used it to escape with Gendry. The Faceless Man gave me a coin of the House of Black and White for if I decided to journey there. Now I know it was to recruit me. But a girl is Arya Stark and I am not no one.”

Arya’s cryptic words left the two lovers in stunned silence. Arya continued,

“But, this woman here is also right about Sansa. We told you that we executed Littlefinger but not the circumstances. He was pitting us against each other. Grooming Sansa to do his bidding. He saw me as a threat because I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t small anymore... Sansa thought I wanted to kill her and that that was the only reason I came back to Winterfell. To take her place, her face, and be a lady.”

Arya chuckled and rolled her eyes despite the stoic expression on Daenerys’ face and the increasing worry on her brothers,

“I’m not a lady and I will never be one. Sansa didn’t remember that though and she let Littlefinger whisper in her ears for weeks. She didn’t defend you to the Lords and Ladies when they complained of you being away. She didn’t defend you when they started to call for her to be Queen of the North. Baelish’s grooming was paying off. He’d been whispering to her since we got the King’s Tourney. Telling her who people were, their stories. I imagine he told her stories of who she needed to be even after he got her out of King’s Landing and to Winterfell.”

Shock rang through Jon’s body. None of this was mentioned in Sansa’s letters. Daenerys looked between Jon and Arya with worry.

“Is she plotting against her own brother?”

Arya looked at the Dragon Queen with calculating eyes and she approved of the concern for Jon, not his title.

“No, not anymore. All those years with Cersei and Littlefinger whispering to her and giving advice has led Sansa to think politically. She learned a lot from them, and I saw her as a danger to Jon when she didn’t defend him or refute their statements. I trailed Littlefinger, I watched Sansa closely, and I found a letter she wrote while in King’s Landing to Robb. It was Cersei and Littlefinger’s words and Sansa was the puppet. I realized that while Sansa isn’t a puppet anymore, the manner she speaks now is theirs together. Sansa’s playing the game, whether she knows it or not.”

Jon looked incredulous,

“Sansa wants no part of King’s Landing.”

He received a curt nod from Arya,

“Aye, but she wants to remain North. Where all her supporters are. Littlefinger was going to use her to get the Iron Throne and she trusted him despite the fact that she knew not to. He had us poised and ready to strike one another till Bran interjected. Bran told us what how he betrayed father down in King’s Landing. How he convinced Aunt Lysa to poison her husband Jon Arryn. How he sold Sansa as a power play to the Bolton’s believing they’d be easy to deal with. How he almost arranged a marriage between Cousin Robyn and Sansa to keep her close so she would poison our cousin later on. Littlefinger saw Bran and I as threats to giving Sansa power and focused on getting rid of me when Bran's disinterest in everything became no issue to him. Sansa had the support of the Vale and most of the Northern Lords. If the mock of a trial we turned on Littlefinger had gone as he planned, I’d have made my way down to Dragonstone with Bran to warn you that the North turned their backs on the Stark family again and more war would have followed.”

Jon wouldn’t have believed the words he heard if it weren’t Arya who said it. Sansa had really been so close to betraying him? She came to seek shelter at Castle Black nearly seven moons ago, no other Lord or Lady along the long road to the Wall willing to house her. Then, all those who were so hesitant to even help us reclaim Winterfell, she’d have them against me too? 

Jon felt an echo of the stab wound in his own heart and the others in his body. Sansa would have betrayed him…. After all he did to save her. Not so long after he’d just been betrayed by his sworn brothers. How could she think like that? Then a memory comes to his mind when Sansa told him not to go to Dragonstone and they got into an argument over Cersei.

_‘You almost sound as if you admire her'_  
_'…. I learned a great deal from her.’_

Sansa has only been looking out for him then. But speaking out against him in front of all the Lords and Ladies wasn’t helpful at all. If anything, it gave her power over Jon. So subtle and unnoticeable. Jon remembers how angry he was back then. The constant almost belittlement in her words. Sansa stated that they were warnings. But the Lord’s saw her words are reason to think there were two sides. Sansa, who learned all sorts of politics in King’s Landing, versus Jon, who knows nothing. 

Daenerys stood silently. Thinking. Any move I make, she’s going to see me as a threat to Jon AND herself. Cersei promised her troops in return for Jaime, but not one golden piece of armor has been sighted headed North since her letter. Daenerys knew true to her heart that the Golden Lioness of House Lannister was hoping they all died in the upcoming war. She knew that Cersei knew they would be weakened and be a more equal opponent. There was also the issue of one Euron Greyjoy. Sailing the seas and probably to Cersei as they spoke. Ever since the Greyjoy siblings found her in Essos, she has kept their uncle in the back of her mind. Often forgetting about him until random moments since they were no longer in the sea. She often thought of the pirate when they sailed for White Harbor. Not a single peep from the man since his failed attempt to weaken her forces. If Daenerys had not gone against Tyrion’s advice to not follow her two allies to Dorne, she’d have only Olenna. 

Tyrion was a touchy subject for Daenerys as well. As good as his advice was in Mereen, his council has been worthless since they set foot in Westeros. Daenerys felt self-critical, of course she shouldn’t have only used Tyrion’s plans. His plan for Casterly Rock was disastrous, Cersei cared nothing for her ancestral home. Tyrion had been away from his sister too long and she knows his plans before he came up with them. Yet she kept him has her Hand and brought him North. Brought him to his dearest ex-wife Sansa Stark. Who, from Arya’s words, is indeed playing the game she, herself, hasn’t yet learned.

“You say she doesn’t want the Iron Throne but a throne here in the North, in Winterfell. I do not believe she would have Jon killed to become Queen, but she’d find a way to get rid of her enemies. Like she did with you Arya Stark…”

Arya raised an eyebrow in question and Jon wanted to be offended at the accusation but was still lost. 

“Explain.”

Daenerys stood with her back straighter,

“Sansa may not disclose every detail of Littlefinger’s treason, but the soldiers and people speak of all they witnessed. How Sansa passed the sentence, but you swung the sword, Arya Stark. They speak of how she isn’t really of the North but wants to protect their home. How you are the warrior of the North and Sansa the Lady. How Lord Starks children do not follow Northern customs and instead hold little faith in the Old or New Gods and are dangerous. I am not sure if they genuinely love you or the memories you bring of their favorite Stark Lord. I do know they fear Bran for his behavior, Sansa for her ways of southern politics and manner, and you for your likeness to Lyanna Stark.”

Shock showed on Jon and Arya’s faces,

“They say I look like Aunt Lyanna?”

Dany nodded,

“Aye, especially the oldest Lords and Lady’s. You Northerners are stubborn and secretive. Never delving into your own feelings but into business. But they speak more of Sansa. Her ‘Tully’ looks. How much she is alike and unlike her mother. Those who have met Cersei in her youth compare Sansa and her….”

The three remained silent for a few moments. Jon thinking the most, trying to come up with something to say to all of this. One thing was sure in his mind,

“Sansa wants the North independent of the Seven Kingdoms, doesn’t she?”

Daenerys felt that answer was a definite yes. Arya was the one who nodded. Jon scowled in his ever-growing frustration,

“And how would the North survive?! Our crops are freezing, the stores aren’t nearly full enough to last a normal winter! If we lose the battle here and are forced to retreat or die, what food will there be for the survivors?! Even if we all miraculously survive, the food is South, the crops are South, the holdfasts to fall back to are South.  
It’s hard enough that we have people streaming in from the wall to here for salvation. We have to send the people who come to White Harbor or the Vale. Commonfolk keep coming and saying they want to fight but have no skill to even hold a sword. All of this from the moment I left for Dragonstone and there has hardly been any progress with the newcomers since I left! Sansa may be acting as Lady of Winterfell, but she was only concerning herself with the dressings and stores. Today I saw a boy of five and ten training and he looked worse than my friend Sam when he joined the Night’s Watch. We are going to lose a lot of soldiers and people in the War to come and Sansa worries of politics?”

Arya bit her lip to hold her tongue, coming to Sansa’s defense had been a common occurrence for her these last few months and now that Jon is here, she no longer had to be overly concerned with Sansa. Now, she could go back to what she did before, keeping an eye out for potential enemies. The top of her list was Daenerys Targaryen, but the woman seemed to genuinely care for her brother and Jon returns those feelings equally. If Arya can see that, she knows that others can as well.

“Until she sees the dead walking for herself, Cersei and the South will be her enemies.”

_Elsewhere in WInterfell_

Varys walked away silently from the conversation he just overheard in the Solar of Winterfell. As long as he’s known Tyrion, he had never seen the man played in such a way. Well, his sister is capable, but Sansa is another form of the Lioness in the making from what he just heard. 

Seeds of doubt. Never answering his questions. Redirecting the entire conversation. 

It was all so easy for Sansa, Varys gathered. It didn’t help that Tyrion went to Sansa to speak to her on Daenerys' behalf without counseling the Queen first. Daenerys Targaryen would not be pleased at all. Sansa smiled when it was needed. Sansa was silent when needed. Sansa used the right words.

_“We would have been a good couple.”_

_“Yes, there’s only one problem. You serve a Targaryen Queen.”_

The look on Tyrion's face was unlike him. Varys thought for a moment he’d defend the Queen who saved his life and gave him a chance to start a new one. No, instead he turned silent and looked perplexed. Varys walked out into a courtyard and made his way to the Weirwood tree he knew Daenerys to be last seen heading towards. What he found there was also intriguing. There stood Daenerys and Jon side by side. Every looking the part of King and Queen. Arya Stark stood with them, talking. Varys observed their body language. He could tell there was a debate ensuing. As he approached cautiously, Varys saw Arya turn towards him even though he had just stepped into the snow-covered yard. Daenerys and Jon noticed him and gathered themselves before Daenerys motioned him forward. The Eunuch hesitated to give this information in front of the relatives of Sansa Stark, but Daenerys was sure,

“The Starks are my allies, Varys, tell me what you need.”

A soft sigh escaped Varys before he spoke,

“I happened across Sansa Stark and Tyrion Lannister having a dangerous discussion. I’m afraid your best interests may not be Tyrion’s anymore, your Grace. Tyrion was once married to Sansa after all. He did all he could to protect her while in King’s Landing and he hasn’t seen her since then. He may not see her as more than the girl who needed protection yet. Tyrion may still feel it is his duty to do right by her…. Even if it conflicts with your choices, your Grace.”

Inside, Daenerys’ was fuming. The man she left in de facto charge of Mereen and has failed her from the moment they arrived in Westeros. At that thought, a strand within the Dragon Queen snapped. How many months had she wondered why Tyrion couldn’t outsmart his sister? How many times did she question his battle plans and turned out better for ignoring his suggestions? How many times did he look at her as if she were a child as he berated her for wanting to use her dragons?

“ _Perhaps you don’t want your family dead after all…_ You were there when I stated that Jon. When his plan to take Casterly Rock was such a waste and you suggested that I aide Olenna in the removal of her supplies from Highgarden. His brother, we got him at Highgarden, he begged me to not kill him before I could even open my mouth. He didn’t know my plan for those I captured, and he immediately thought I’d burn him with Drogon without a second thought. He did it so easily as if I’ve done it before. I never needlessly burned anyone! Only my enemies who would harm the innocent and he looked at me in that moment in such fear….”

Varys saw Daenerys in that moment, the one who was more than a Queen. He saw her mother, the gentle Targaryen Queen that the people loved before Aerys confined his sister-wife to the Red Keep. Daenerys has never shown any signs of Aerys in her nature. Her nature was more like a mother’s. The heartbreak in her voice and slight swell of tears in her eyes showed that Daenerys Targaryen was more than the dark rumors tried to make her out to be. 

Arya noticed this as well. A woman who flies on dragons was also a woman. She had a soft side, a side that cared when she was betrayed. A side that she only let show to people close to her. Arya knew that the Dragon Queen wasn’t to be baselessly feared or distrusted. She cares about the people too. She would have cared about Lamy. She would have cared about all the children Cersei and Joffrey had killed. Arya could also see the fury flickering in the Dragon Queen’s eyes. She liked that fire, just like she never trusts a Lannister.

Jon was growing angry as well. Tyrion who advised that he and Daenerys downplay their relationship with the Lords and Ladies. Tyrion, who talked down to their Queen on more than one occasion. Tyrion, who went back to drinking as soon as his brother was brought to Dragonstone. Jon looks at Daenerys and they make eye contact, equal fire in their eyes. Varys and Arya are only slightly worried until they can see Daenerys and Jon come to a mental agreement. 

“Call a meeting with all our allies, immediately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not a Sansa bashing story, I just feel like Sansa's actions in season 8 went without consequence or question. Many people went along with D&D making Sansa out to be some genius and Dany to be just evil. I want to show that D&D didn't "foreshadow" but just made that plot up to "subvert expectations." "We've known since season 3 how this was going to end".....really? Every season except Seasons 7 and 8 we've seen Dany interact with the people and show her care for them, as well as learn to rule to please both the people and highborn. However, when the showrunners got her to Westeros, they treated Dany like she was above the people and only showed the people for shock value. They didn't show any of the common people in season 7 for connection or to promote a relationship for us to care about. Let's be real, Hotpie was a cameo for reference to previous seasons. Ed Sheeran's character could have told Arya what Hotpie did. Episode 5 of season 8 was the first time a "story" of the people was introduced just for us to see the consequences of the war with Cersei. 
> 
> I don't want the people to be used for shock value. Or as a crutch for the audience to feel sorry for. The whole point of Dany's arch is that she wants to people to be treated fairly and equally to highborns. She wants them to have choices and she wants to save as many as possible. I also wanted to point out how both the common people and soldiers under the Lords of the North are affected by everyone's actions. It's ridiculous how rushed episode 1 was just to have episode 2 be war prep with one little fiesty common girl wanting to fight. Plus, it's best to resolve any drama before the Great War, otherwise, you don't know who will end up with a knife in the back.


	4. What They Witnessed and What They Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 2 Part 1 of 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter alone has more dialogue than most of the episodes of season 8. If it feels too one-sided, that isn't my intent. Daenerys didn't speak in front of the Lords nearly enough for them to get a gauge of her character and person. I know that Jon doesn't have much dialogue at all in this chapter, but don't be fooled. I won't be sidelining him. 
> 
> The Lords and Ladies of the north will get dialogue too soon enough. I won't have them as observers for much longer.

What They Witnessed and What They Said

Sansa sat next to Jon. Unease in her belly. Daenerys Targaryen sat on Jon’s right-hand side as before. Something felt off though. As before, Jon didn’t explain to her what the meeting was about. He didn’t explain why there was a rush or why Tyrion wasn’t by his Queen’s side. Deep inside, Sansa was worried for Tyrion, but her care didn’t extend far. Her beloved ex-husband was useful. Everyone sat in silence, glancing between Jon and Daenerys. It was the Dragon Queen that spoke first, something that didn’t surprise Sansa anymore. To Sansa, Jon bent the knee and relinquished his power to the foreigner. But Sansa was not prepared for the Dragon Queen’s words,

“Come forward, Tyrion of House Lannister.”

Confusion filled the room, none more so than Tyrion himself. He followed Daenerys’ command, standing before her alone at the table. Suspicion evident in his eyes as he tried to put a smile on his face as he bowed before his queen. He grew concerned when Daenerys only looked at him with hardened eyes and in the most subtle way he could manage, his eyes flicked over to Jon to see what the Stark boy thought. He found equal hardness in the young man’s eyes too. Daenerys spoke with an edge in her voice,

“You stand here Lord Tyrion accused of treason.”

Silence rang through the hall. No one dared breathe. How could the imp have betrayed his Queen in these halls? Was it something he did before their arrival? Sansa felt her heart tighten in a pang of fear for Tyrion. For just a second, she was that girl in King’s Landing, the one who genuinely cared for Tyrion and his company. With a blink of her Tully blues eyes, she brushed that girl from her mind. She tried to quickly come up with a defense for her ex-husband, but the political side of her knew the Northern Lords would look at her differently form defending a Southerner. Daenerys broke her from her thoughts with her cold tone,

“That is what I would say if this was a real trial, Lord Tyrion. Nevertheless, you have failed me. I fear you have betrayed me as well. For your failure as my trusted hand from the moment we landed in Westeros till now, I should have taken that pin from your shoulder and given it to someone with plans worthwhile. Do you deny that you failed to give the best advice for the Seven Kingdoms in order to keep your sister alive? Despite knowing that it costs the lives of others?”

No sound was heard. Every person in the hall held their breath. Tyrion was frozen where he stood and his jaw dropped in disbelief,

“My-my Queen. I never intended to-”

Jon Snow banged a fist on the table,

“Never intended to actually fight your sister or never intended for Daenerys to make it this far in Westeros?”

Tyrion’s eyes bugged out for a moment,

“Neither of those! I never intended for so many lives to be lost either!”

Tyrion paused to look around the room at the hostile looks of the lords,

“I didn’t want my Queen to have to use her dragons.”

Tyrion turned to face Daenerys,

“You hardly had to use them in Essos, my Queen, I just wanted it to be the same here as well.”

Daenerys’ hands closed into fists and she let out a shallow breathe she had been holding,

“If that is true, then you should have known that it would be impossible to not use my dragons for war when your sister is involved.”

Tyrion saw ice in her eyes instead of fire for the first time then. It terrified him. The icy lilac gleam in her eyes. His heart faltered and it was suddenly difficult to look her in the eye. Daenerys continued, never looking away, 

“Cersei blew up the Great Sept in King’s Landing with WILDFIRE! She used fire on her enemies, and you look at me as if I committed the act. For months, Lord Tyrion, you have failed me as my Hand. For months, you have failed my trust, and now I am inclined to believe that you would conspire to have me out of the way.”

The man in question began to look like he wanted to cry. Tyrion shook his head slowly and brought his eyes to meet the woman who had given him purpose,

“No, that isn’t true. You are my Queen. I have only been trying to-”

Fire reclaimed Daenerys’ eyes and she stood,

“You surround yourself with the few familiar faces you knew and trusted before your farse trial! You return to the man you were before I saved your life! You came to me in chains! I set you free despite others telling me you would try to kill me, that you would betray me if I took your counsel! Lord Tyrion, you learned nothing of what it is like to be truly small. Despite your stature and brief tryst in being a slave, you grew up with riches and privileges I did not. I, who grew up on the run from assassins, had no money, no friends, only people who wanted to use me. You, who grew up with a loyal army to your family, coins always in your purse, drinking buddies. I should have known you weren’t a mind for the real people though.”

Her words cut Tyrion in a way only his father had before. Memories flooded his mind of the hot heat of the sun on his skin. The weight of chains on his wrists and ankles. Being pulled and dragged. The beatings. Tyrion had tried many times to wipe that experience from his memory, but he did still carry scars from those chains on his wrists. Shame was an emotion Tyrion ignored and denied most of his life. Shame was a feeling that he glossed over with drinking and jokes. Shame was something he couldn’t ignore at this moment. Daenerys continued, 

“I should have known from when I returned to Meereen and the city was under attack from former slavers. I should have known. You tried to use Westeros politics and turn it so that the masters would be satiated till I returned. Not only did you do nothing to ease the tension between my rule there and the masters, but you also gave them the impression that the city wouldn’t fight since I was no longer there! My city had been under siege and fire from catapults for days before I returned, my people were dying, and you were cowering in the Great Pyramid failing to protect those innocent lives! You gave no direction for the people! You didn’t have any battle plans to keep them at bay! My generals did all the work themselves until I arrived. You may have given good advice before I first left Meereen, but you stopped when you finally saw me use my dragons to end the Slaver’s Rebellion.”

Tyrion erupted then, losing all rational thinking for a moment,

“They were only manning the ship; you didn’t have to burn them like that. Nor the Tarly’s!”

The hall broke into quiet whispers till Daenerys spoke,

“I burned only one ship out of dozens! Most had jumped overboard before I even burned it into the bay. I did what I had to, to save a city full of innocent people who only wanted to keep their freedom and protect their children. You only talked to the slavers and nobles! You didn’t listen to a word of advice from Missandei and Greyworm! You denied the words of former slaves in favor of keeping the ideals of your cleverness close at heart. Missandei and Greyworm tried to speak with you about the slavers until the day they showed up without warning in the bay! You led my city into war with your carelessness.”

After these words, Lady Olenna then stood as well, pointing her finger at Tyrion,

“Randyll Tarly betrayed my family and me, his Lady Liege, for your sister’s promise of taking my home you arrogant fool! My grandchildren! My son! Killed in the worst way possible by your sister. Then that man conspires with Cersei Lannister. Yet, here you stand, you throw a fit over the wrong person for burning people! If I didn’t know you so well from my stay in King’s Landing, I’d think you were in love with Cersei too.”

In a back corner, Samwell was frozen. This was news to him. His father had sided with Cersei? His father had sided with the Targaryen’s in Robert’s Rebellion, what could have made him take an offer from Cersei? Jaime Lannister stood sandwiched between Brienne and a Northern soldier, he blanched at the thought of what Olenna implied. Cersei would never let Tyrion near her, so he knew the accusation was false. But he also knew how manipulative his sister is, he spoke out before he could reign himself in,

“Of course not. She played him! I’ve spoken to Tyrion about Cersei’s behavior since his escape. She blames him for Tommen and Mrycella’s deaths above the Tyrell’s and the Martell’s! Mrycella was perfectly happy in Dorne with her betrothed and Tommen was a sweet boy. Neither of them hated Tyrion and neither of them cared for the game of thrones. Cersei may have the thrown now, but she’s going to keep playing until she is the only player on the board. She’s always seen Tyrion as a threat since we were children and he was a baby, and she wants him dead regardless of anything good he’s done. She doesn’t care that he’s tried to save her life. She wants him to suffer and die most painfully. She even lied that she is pregnant just to try and get me to stay by her side for a time. I found out the day that I left, she was never pregnant within the last ten years, she can’t have any more children.”

With Jaime’s outburst, Tyrion was in for another shock. Against his better will, he spoke out again,

“She is pregnant, Jaime. When I talked to her and convinced her to send her armies up North, there was no doubt. She’s not drinking wine! When has she ever turned down wine?”

Jaime looked at his brother gravely,

“Did Cersei look like she was six or eight moons pregnant to you, Tyrion? We’ve seen what she looks like when she’s carrying, and she hasn’t gained nearly enough weight to be carrying a child. She lied. She manipulated you. She directed you to think about what she wanted you to. That’s what Cersei does, don’t stand here and let her manipulations cost you further.”

Tyrion had no more words after his brothers’ statement and stood quietly before his Queen. He contemplated his actions and thought of how much he held back in his plans, Tyrion felt truly disgusted with himself. He considered that all his real anger towards his family left him when he killed his father, but how did he really feel about Cersei? Mrycella being in Dorne was his doing, but until his trial and the death of Oberyn, she had been doing fine. From Jaime’s and the Sand Snakes' words, she was thriving and in love with Tristan Martell. That gave Tyrion some console, that he gave his niece a better chance of happiness than his father would have given her. His father would have married her off to Robin Arryn or even Loras Tyrell had he the chance. Tommen, Jaime assured Tyrion that the boy’s death was on Cersei. Jaime spoke with a lingering sadness in his voice,

“He loved his wife and he was a sweet boy who loathed violence and killing. He died when Margery did, and he never would have been able to live with Cersei after that. Cersei could never understand what her actions had caused. She refused to talk about him and when she did, she called him a traitor for leaving her. Cersei called her dead son a traitor for not being a heartless monster who reveled in the death of those he liked and cared for. She isn’t going to be saved, we have to save as many people possible from her rage. If that means her death then so be it.”

Tyrion thought deeply about his meeting with Cersei, how freely she spoke to him. He had assumed it was because of all the power she held, but he could see the shifting in her eyes, the diction of her words, the subtle hand movements that no longer seemed subtle. Cersei was a great actress now too, it seemed. Many of the lords had no words but nodded at Jaime’s speech. All wanted Cersei dead.

“Damn….”

Tyrion lowly spoke to himself. He felt shame and disappointment in himself,

“I thought I knew Cersei better than anyone. For that, I am sorry. But I have not conspired against you, my Queen. Nor will I ever.”

At that, Daenerys quirked an eyebrow,

“Not even with your ex-wife?”

Many people stilled in the room once more. Loyalties began to urge for hands to reach for swords. Notably, Sansa’s loyalists in the Vale and some of the Northern Lords. Sansa, herself, was frozen to her seat. She didn’t dare move and she went through all of her recent conversations in her mind to see what the Dragon Queen could possibly be referring to. Sansa thought of nothing. All her conversations were isolated in the public, nothing anyone could overhear or spread. Nothing condemning. At least, that is what Sansa thought until Lord Varys stepped forward,

“Since our arrival here in Winterfell, my Queen and her allies have been working hard to equal aid and plan for the upcoming war. Queen Daenerys has used her dragons to scout the forests and close land for battle plans, directed her men to dig and train your people who still hadn’t shown progress in fighting in the five months your King Jon had been gone, and she has fed you all since our arrival. Yes, along with the food we have brought, my Queen has arranged for food from Essos that isn’t too unlike the grains you are used to, to be shipped to the North. However, Sansa Stark has questioned my Queen’s actions in front of all of you many times, nearly every day. The main subject being food and my Queen’s dragons. I assure you, none of you will go hungry and none of you will be eaten by the Queen’s children. Queen Daenerys’ loyalists in Essos are prepared to send whatever she needs here, as they have been thriving since her liberation. Sansa Stark has spoken to my Queen about Northern Independence as well, is that what you all wish? To not be given food and clothes and medicine? After the wars, do you plan to provide everything for yourselves with your stores so low? As Sansa has pointed out multiple times.”

At the blank and looks of realization, Varys continued,

“I do not truly know what Lady Sansa has against my Queen but know this. Without her, we are all lost. She has the fury of a dragon. She has the heart of her mother. She has the drive of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. She has the fire we all need to survive. Without it, we will all freeze in our homes and arise with the dead.”

No one said a word. Daenerys was still standing,

“Earlier today, my advisor Lord Varys overheard a conversation between you and Sansa. Is it true Lord Tyrion that you didn’t defend me when Sansa questioned my intentions?”

The man in question suddenly understood the catalyst for today’s events. 

“My loyalty is you Daenerys.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Daenerys’ tone was cold,

“Is it? Because that is not what I asked you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! 
> 
> Full disclosure: I'm better with dialogue than descriptive parts when it comes to writing. I'm working on including more descriptions and such between dialogues. While writing this chapter I was thinking of a full-on scene rather than book style. So, I'm a visual thinking writer. I will be working on balancing between telling the story with dialogue and showing the story through depictions.


	5. What They Do and What They See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 2 part 2 of 3
> 
> This chapter is a look at King's Landing since the end of season 7. 
> 
> Cersei isn't a character to sympathize with. Not after all she has done in the series. Yes, she lost all of her children, but they all would have been better not being with her. She was killed or been responsible for the deaths of many characters. Had children that weren't her husbands and gave them crowns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter depicts graphic scenes of rape and violence.

What They Do and What They See

_[Warning: graphic depictions ahead, you have been warned]_

_King’s Landing_

King’s Landing was getting colder by the day. The city was no longer vibrant with life. The atmosphere grim with the lowering temperatures. Over the weeks since the parlay with the Northerners and other kingdoms, the snow had fallen on the city several days. None of it sticking yet, but the people were so cold. Most not remembering the last winter, they didn’t know what to do. The people were hungry. The people were stirring in their growing anger. Fear often in the back of their minds. Fear of their Queen instead of her enemies. Cersei had spread word that the Dragon Queen would come to burn them in their homes in King’s Landing and that her savages would rape their wives and murder their children. Some of the smarter citizens packed up what little they had and left the only place they knew their entire lives. They traveled to places warmer. The majority on foot since none had ridden horses before. Be it Dorne or across the Narrow Sea. 

Despite Cersei’s rumors of the foreign Queen, the ships in the harbor brought stories of Essos and its free cities. Very few ships would bring food to the capitol these days. Secretly carrying the Targaryen banner, Daenerys had ordered half a dozen ships to bring food to the capital once a month under the guise of Braavosi trade ships. Although there was nothing to trade anymore with the crops dried up and dying from the cold, even the guards said nothing. Food was food and even they were hungry. The people who didn’t want to stay in the country in fear of the rumors of a dead army were stowed away on the ships under the decks the nights before they’d depart. If Cersei noticed her people leaving, she didn’t care. The Lioness was safe within the Red Keep's walls. Her thoughts rarely strayed to the people. She had so much food and wine made for herself and her family soldiers, the city guards got what was smuggled to them from their friends in her army. Ordered the scraps be burned instead of given to the starving people. Most of her army that had moved their own families to the city disobeyed her orders so they could feed their families. Some had even begun to send off their wives and children to Dorne.

Day by day, Cersei was losing both the lifelong loyalty of her armies, her people, and her mind. She drank every day. She yelled at the servants, throwing her wine in their faces. She had them drink her wine first at times. Suspicious and distrust at every face but a few. Qyburn worried about the woman who gave him the opportunity to freely construct his experiments. After her miscarriage, Cersei became unhinged. Her hate had no more boundaries. She had ordered Jaime to be found and brought to her. She ordered for Tyrion’s head to be brought to her on a spike. For his body to be burned before her with his cock flayed. She ordered the Dragon Queen to be burned with wildfire and to be served the heads of her dragons. The servants had begun to run away. Qyburn was forced to have some of her soldiers take their place. Still, Cersei screamed and raved with that look in her eyes. A look that hadn’t been seen since the end of Robert’s Rebellion. Qyburn remembered his time at the Citadel. The documents he found. The diaries of the Grand Maester’s while Tywin Lannister had been the Mad King’s Hand. 

He had found the tales and horrors captivating. The Mad Kind’s descent from his kindness into suspicion and cruelty. It reminded him much of Cersei now. Qyburn remembered the Maester’s confession of Aerys’ multiple rapes of Joanna Lannister. He recalled the tale of Aerys demanding Joanna’s company a short time after her coupling with her husband. Not even two moons later, it was known that Joanna was pregnant with who would be Jaime and Cersei Lannister. Qyburn wondered if it was possible that the twins were Aerys seed. He wondered if one was Tywin’s and the other Aerys’. He wondered if it was possible and had done the research. 

Qyburn found accounts of several pleasure women who had given birth to twins or triplets and the child’s hair each looking different. One with red hair, one with black, and one with brown. One of darker skin, the other fair. Qyburn looked at the book, last read by Ned Stark. He saw the trends of Targaryen’s who fathered or birthed children with Baratheon’s, Dayne’s, and Dornish. The child or children all had the traits of the non-Targaryen’s, except the Dayne’s. Qyburn hypothesized and came to his own conclusion. He didn’t dare voice it. Cersei adored Tywin. Cersei embodied his ferocity and took it further than the Rains of Castamere. The Hand was fearful of Cersei. She truly was a monster. Fathered by Aerys Targaryen. Raised by Tywin Lannister. The deadliest combination of nature and nurture. 

Then came the day that a true Braavosi ship came. The ship was from the Iron Bank. Tired of the debt and dismissal of the Crown, they sent a team of representatives to King’s Landing. Cersei had tried to take another loan out in order to get the Golden Company’s services, sending Euron and his ships to ferry them. Only, she didn’t realize his ships didn’t come with the Iron Banks. She especially wanted the elephants, wanted to squash her enemies under their feet. It wasn’t good news for Cersei though. She had first welcomed the Iron Bank’s team with a smile from where she sat on the Iron Throne. When they didn’t bow or kneel to her, the smile was gone and a glossy gaze was in her eyes,

“Debt. Debt! You come before your Queen speaking of debt. I am the QUEEN! There is no debt so long as I rule!”

The representatives knew then, not all of them would be returning to their ship and home.

“Cersei Lannister, we, the Iron Bank, do not follow hierarchy or Westeros politics. We are a bank in a separate country. We do not recognize royalty.”

The representative was cut down by the Mountain. Split in half jarringly from the head through his groin. The other representatives were covered in their friends’ blood. Shocked at the savagery. They lied through their teeth to leave. Only to be stopped by Cersei’s words,

“How many does it take to send a message? One will do. The rest of you are my captives until my army of elephants and Golden soldiers arrive. Your bank will recognize me as their Queen. Your leaders will send their apologies by giving me a million golden crowns. By the time the dead are done with the North, I will have the greatest army and I will win. THIS IS MY THRONE! Out! All of you! Except for this one….”

The man in question was blonde with long hair. It shined under the flames of the torches nearby. For a moment, Cersei saw Jaime in their early twenties in the flickering of the flames reflecting off the man’s skin. He was handsome but not strong looking. His physique reminded her of Littlefinger. Slim, but there had been a time when even Littlefinger had brought her great pleasures while Jaime was away. Descending from the throne and now alone with the man, Cersei had the Mountain stand guard at the main door and the servants wait in the hall. She had the man strip his clothing. Cersei appreciated his refined body. She didn’t ask his name. She only looked at him with hunger as she too undressed. Cersei took what she wanted, and she told herself that this is what she deserves as Queen. She was giving this man the greatest and most beautiful partner he would ever have.

Cersei wished the man were Jaime as they began. Wished that the cock inside her was his as she visualized the memories of their many trysts. But the man soon drove her from these thoughts of her brother as he fucked Cersei from below with attention to her needs, because he knew his life depended on it. Cersei wasn’t disappointed in his actions. Her drive was in full force from the full pitcher of wine she had drunk before his company’s arrival to the Red Keep and throne room. The man didn’t spend himself in her and it took all his will to keep himself erect for the vile woman. She would orgasm with him inside and he would think it was finally done, only for her to immediately start again with more vigor and sweat. It helped that she was pretty, but her reputation and actions today had revolted him so much that it was easy to not release. The man wanted to cry and push the woman away and run for his life, he knew he wouldn’t get past that monster at the door though. Her nails digging into his shoulders, ranking over his chest and back, her teeth biting into his skin. He would carry scars from this day for years. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Cersei used him over and over for hours for her numerous pleasures before he was finally drawn to release. With that, she finally released him from her body and he resisted the urge to vomit. Redressing, she called her remaining two servant girls to bring the man to her bed and confine him to her room. Cersei was proud and satisfied for the first time in weeks. Euron, while good in bed, was too much of a power player in bed. Cersei liked having the power over her partner and was thankful she only had to share her bed with Euron once. This man was hers to keep and to give her pleasure until Jaime returned…

“Well, maybe I’ll keep them both.”

Cersei let out a stream of giggles as she poured herself a cup of wine and made her way to her full set dining table. All the while, walking unbalanced and crookedly. The sun was setting on King’s Landing for the day, and for the people who lived there, they felt like the sun had set on their city the day Queen Margery and King Tommen died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much dialogue, I know. Was going for more showing not telling for this chapter. I wanted to get more gore in for this chapter but I think I'll save that for battle scenes. The mystery man will remain unnamed for now as well.
> 
> I know this will feel a bit OOC for show Cersei, but from what I understand of Book Cersei, these actions would be more up her alley.
> 
> Let me know what you think and I may have another chapter up to finish off episode 2 on Saturday if I'm able to get any writing done tomorrow.


	6. What They Did and What Will Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 2 || 3 of 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of Episode 2, maybe I should give these episodes actual Titles, not just chapter titles?
> 
> I feel like I found a better balance with dialogue and descriptions in this chapter. Enjoy!

What They Did and What Will Be Done

_Directly after Tyrion’s almost trial_

All the Lords in the Hall were ready to have the little Lannister face justice for his family’s actions should he become free of the Dragon Queen's protection. All the Lords and Ladies in the hall were suspicious of Sansa, no longer willing to blindly trust her for her name and father. The Vale felt foolish for trusting Littlefinger and for having served him. Ned Stark’s daughter, the one they weren’t able to save until the Battle of the Bastards, she needs our protection, they’d say in their minds. They weren’t able to save Ned, they couldn’t save Robb, and they couldn’t save her mother. The Lord’s felt that had owed Sansa, then Arya returned to the North. On her own. Nothing like the first child they had known. 

Now almost a woman grown, she was quiet and guarded, they were suspicious of her un-Northern-like behavior. When some saw her carrying a sword, they thought of Lyanna. When some saw her riding her horse for patrols, they saw Lyanna. The Lord’s too young to remember Lyanna simply saw Arya as different. The North didn’t like different very much. It had taken them years to get used to Catelyn and her Southern ways and worshipped. Arya was a mystery, she was unknown. They have always been wary of the unknown.

From the walls of Winterfell, many of the Lords and their commanders were scoping the fields around the stronghold. Everyone wearing heavy thick Stark grey coats over their already heavy armor. The trenches were deep and left a maze for their men to retreat when the time would come. Some of the Lords felt a little guilty seeing that the majority of the men working on the trenches and catapults were the Dothraki and Unsullied. The North is their home, the commanders felt they should be doing more to defend it than just waiting. Helping with the preparations was something they expected to do until their Lord’s told them to leave it to the savages.

“Lord Glover, we’d be done with these preparations if you’d let us help. The inexperienced fighters need to be hardened. They are soft my Lord. If what King Snow and the Wildlings say are true, we will lose too many men quickly.”

Their Lord merely huffed,

“Then train the boy's yourselves. The Dragon Queen brought her armies here. They are making our preparations because it is the least they can do. Those savages are already unwelcome. They just better be as good fighters as their Queen claims.”

One commander grew a slight scowl on his face and spoke clear,

“Those savages give us the numbers. They are risking their lives for our lands. Their Queen is risking her armies and dragons. Forgive us for trying to extend our hands in this alliance.”

Lord Glover placed his gloved hand heavily on the handle of his sword,

“Watch how you talk to me, boy. You may be a man, but I am your lord. If the other lords want their men to aide then so be it, but under my command, you won’t be aiding those rapists.”

Ire in their eyes, they turned and watched the foreigners work. A few already thinking of working with them in the night while their Lord slept. Elsewhere on the walls, similar conversations were held. One section held the Stark siblings, Daenerys, Daenerys’ allies, and her counsel. A fuming Sansa, wearing her heavy grey and black dress fur coat, was struggling to keep her words to herself as Daenerys and Jon stood side by side in matching black fur coats. A common occurrence when they were walking or standing somewhere together. Tyrion, wearing a fur-lined tunic, was gazing at the Dothraki and Unsullied working, trying to not draw attention to himself. Jorah, who stood closest to his queen, wore a dark grey coat. Varys in the back, wore his fur-lined thick tunic, near a door. The Sand Snakes and Olenna close by in the thickest coats that were designed with their land’s colors. Yara and Theon were in the train parts of the courtyards, learning from the Dornish, Unsullied, and Dothraki. Arya stood nearest to Jon here and Bran separated Sansa from the rest. Sansa felt the power shift. She didn’t like not having the upper hand. Daenerys had her eyes on Sansa though. She saw they struggle the young woman was undergoing,

“Lady Sansa. It is your wish to die here in Winterfell, correct?”

It was an odd question. Even Jon raised a brow at it, but Daenerys continued,

“Winterfell is your home and you wish to be no place else, correct?”

Sansa only gave a stiff nod to the last question and Dany continued,

“I do not know why you feel so threatened by me. The North is my ally, not my enemy. Yet, I feel we are at not. Why is that?”

Sansa thought of all the smart things she could say. She thought of the rude implications she could make, instead, she asked a question,

“What is your relationship with my brother?”

Without addressing Daenerys as she had, Sansa knew it would be an insult regardless. Jon looked uncomfortable. He normally left women to their own devices, but Sansa’s rudeness was undeniable,

“Daenerys is our friend and ally, Sansa. She means no threat to us. How can you stand here and ask questions like this when you know what is coming?”

An exasperated expression suddenly took over Sansa’s face,

“Because I don’t, Jon! None of us do! You went beyond the wall with your Dragon Queen and her allies and returned home no longer a King! We made you King and you gave your title away the first chance you could.”

Anger was a feeling that Jon wasn’t a stranger to, but he thought Sansa knew him better,

“I didn’t! I got to know Daenerys for months before I felt I could bend the knee!”

A look of fury that reminded the Stark siblings of Catelyn was planted on Sansa’s face now,

“Got to know her, did you? Tell me, brother, did you bend the knee for the north or because you love her?”

Olenna saved Jon from having to respond,

“Dear girl, is that what worries you? Do you think your brother would just fall for a pretty face? Hand over his land for a woman he barely knows? It seems to me, that you have little confidence in your brother. I’ll have you know that your brother first showed up to Dragonstone sounding like a mad man, talking about dead armies, calling the war with Cersei a waste of time. Jon did everything he could to try and convince us to just let him mine the dragonglass. Over the weeks, Jon and Daenerys got to know each other. There was no manipulation as you seem to expect. It was fire and ice, trying to meet each other halfway, trying to find a balance. You ask if Jon loves my Queen, I think the answer is obvious. 

A union between the two would be prosperous and I would propose marriage after this war, but we both know from our past at King’s Landing how prosperous marriages are threatened. Did you know what my Margery was doing for the people while you were refined to the castle? Did you know how much she pulled Tommen for his mother to try and get the boy to think for his own? I doubt it. You only cared when she kept Joffrey’s attention from you, especially after Littlefinger kidnapped you. Margery tried to get Tommen to remove the price from your head after Tyrion’s trial, everyone thinking Tyrion guilty and you the damsel in an unfortunate marriage. My granddaughter, who cared for the people, worked through court with ease, and knew how to rule was snuffed out by Cersei Lannister. I joined Daenerys Targaryen to avenge my family, to bring an end to Cersei, and to put a better person on the Iron Throne. Daenerys is that person. She is not the type to sleep with men to gain alliances, as you worried about. She means no threat to you or your family.”

Sansa didn’t want to back down. She looked Daenerys in her lilac eyes and sharply stated in confidence,

“What about that Noble in Mereen?”

At the momentary shock that ran across the Dragon Queen’s face, Sansa felt a moment of victory. Surely, this woman cannot be as much a blessing as others make her to be. Her feeling of success dwindled as Daenerys turned sad, the Dragon Queen’s eyes didn’t leave hers,

“Hizdahr so Loraq was his name. He wasn’t a lord. Essos doesn’t carry titles as they do here. Mereen was a city ruled by Master’s, not Lords. They thought themselves important over the slaves for centuries until I came. There were no ‘people’ in Mereen, it was master’s or slaves. The merchants never occupied Slaver’s Bay until after my success in ruling the city. Hizdahr felt no love for me, but he was ready for change. Like his father, who I admit was wrongly executed for taking part in the massacre of those children, he wanted to bridge the gap between the former slaves and former masters. I didn’t want to go through with it. But my advisors at the time agreed to it, especially after the betrayal of my representative of the former slaves. He had murdered one of the former masters I had in the cells and wanted all the former master’s dead. I gave him a public execution and the people started to turn on me. 

Until that moment, I had catered to all the former slave's needs and with their turn in attitude towards me and a growing threat of terrorism, I agreed to the marriage. I tried for months to please both the people and former master’s. The Sons of the Harpy kept popping up and despite my efforts, it seemed both former slaves and masters was joining their cause. So, yes, I married to keep the peace, to prevent a major civil war. Then came the day where I and my council were all vulnerable. They swarmed us and attacked. Hizdahr was killed, I lost soldiers I cared for, then Drogon saved us. Set the Sons of the Harpy on fire, not at my command, but to save me. They turned their spears on my son and I did what I could now that my remaining guards had the upper hand, I got onto Drogon for the first time and he flew me away.”

By time she finished, Daenerys had a hardened expression, guarded even. Jon placed a hand at her back, an action that everyone noticed, and Jon didn’t care. Jon was done hiding, with all that is coming, he wasn’t going to take his happiness for granted,

“Aye, I love Dany. She has been through much and so have I. We see each other equally. We feel equally. We are two sides of the same coin, Sansa. I wouldn’t ‘give the North away’ as you put it. You forget that I am my own person. You see my actions and worry that I will make the same mistakes as Father and Robb, I know their mistakes. It wasn’t their honor, it was who they placed their trust in. Littlefinger and the Boltons. Both have been dealt with and both cam no longer harm us. Now, let us move forward with our plans. No more speaking out of turn. No more condescending comments. You are a grown woman Sansa, do not bully in tone or speak ill of the alliances I made. Not when you haven’t done enough while I was gone. Before you speak, I know that you have been managing the stores and making sure the armor is lined correctly. But the training of the recruits hadn’t progressed till I got here. Daenerys has had her Unsullied and Dothraki training the boys and men. You let the Lord’s do as they pleased while I was gone. They aren’t sending their forces to help make preparations! They aren’t training nearly as many as Dany’s forces are! They may have been loyal to you while I was gone, but they used your lack of military mind to get past their responsibilities.”

Sansa was silenced. No words could come to her mouth. She couldn’t speak. Sansa simply turned and focused her attention on the working men below. The rest of those standing began to speak,

“How is the ferrying fairing?”

“Quite well. In less than a weeks’ time, all the Commonfolk and those who can’t fight will be safe in Dragonstone.”

At this, Tyrion looked to Jon and Daenerys,

“What about our initial plan with the Crypts?”

The two lovers shared a glanced before Jon spoke,

“I and all the remaining Wildlings have seen the Night King raise the dead. I’d hate to leave our vulnerable down there if he ends up resurrecting our losses. The door to the Crypts will be sealed off in three days’ time until it is safe. We don’t know if he can only raise freshly dead bodies, regardless, we all don’t want to see the remains of your siblings and ancestors come after us.”

Realization dawned on Tyrion’s face and he looked sullen. Had my plan been that flawed? Surely, they would keep the other parts. His thoughts were cut by hearing Jorah’s next words,

“All of the Dothraki’s weapons are being remade and lined with dragonglass as we speak. The Unsullied spears and daggers as well. Several of the other Lord’s smiths have been much help. Gendry is a smith prodigy it seems. He thinks he may have the formula worked out for Valyrian Steel worked out soon. We have very few that carry such swords to study its properties. Samwell Tarly had his family sword and donated it for the study and is aiding Gendry in his side experimentations. The dragonglass arrowheads are plentiful since the shards that break off the bigger pieces are easily tied to the base.”

The Sand Snakes reported next,

“Our soldiers are helping make these weapons and more winter clothes. We are also training some of the Unsullied who want to learn, our fighting styles.”

“Our whips are being given dragonglass spikes.”

“We’ve also found some slightly rotted trees nearby; we think should also be lined with Wildfire and dragonglass spikes. The rotted wood will make it easy to put the spikes in should any of the dead run close enough past them.”

Hearing Olenna’s advice made his jaw drop,

“I say we use only half of the Wildfire for the trenches, catapults, and trees and select parts of the field. Leave large spots of oil and wildfire randomly over the field and the catapults will set them ablaze. The more we kill before they get to the trenches, the more arrows we can save.”

These plans were better, there was no doubt. Tyrion only wished he had thought more clearly of how risky his had been. He himself would have been down in the cyrpts. Bran took the moment of silence to speak,

“We have to be careful though. They could go around us. If we are too much of a strong stance. These are better plans than I originally saw. I don’t see them turning away if we wait until they reach the third row of trenches to use the catapults. Most of their army will be out in the open. Especially if they surround us completely. The most vulnerable area will be the Weirwood tree. Those walls can’t be maned. That is where Jon and Dany should wait with the Dragons. 

They surround us completely, we set most of their army ablaze, the Night King and his White Walkers come out with their ice creatures. Giant spiders as big as giants and as small as Ghost. Dragons, the size of Viserion. I am not sure how many there are, but the Night King will be riding one of them. He will be looking for me. He will drive his armies to distract us from the section of the castle with the Weirwood tree and attack with the Dragons there… you have to keep me at the Weirwood Tree. Use me as bait to draw him and his Walkers out.”

Arya and Sansa whipped around to face their brother,

“No!”

Dany’s allies looked concerned at the younger Stark. No one really understood what the Three-Eyed Raven meant. They had seen Bran warg and that made them minorly uncomfortable. Having visions of the future, present, and past was unsettling. Tyrion had a question,

“You have seen our upcoming battle?”

The young man turned almost like a ghost and stared at the small man. Tyrion felt chills. Bran simply sat and stared for a long moment before responding,

“Yes. Changes have already occurred. The Northern soldiers are accepting Daenerys’ much easier. Especially with the presence of Highgarden and Dorne this time.”

This time. That statement sent a jolt into many of the hearts of those around him. A new unsaid question hung in the air, to which Bran still responded,

“Yes, in one of my visions, Daenerys’ allies were all dead and South before she came North. In another one, she lost a dragon beyond the wall. I have been trying to see visions of the past, present, and future where Weirwood trees aren’t nearby. It is difficult to not get lost in the visions without them close. But we will have fewer losses. 

Once we get most of the dead people out of the way, we can focus our arrows and spears on the ice creatures. Those and the giants will be hard to defeat. Many of our unprepared soldiers will freeze in horror at the sight of the giants and others. The ones distracted will be taken out by the dead people. A Lord or two will turn from the battle with some of their men and try to escape. They will only meet more of the dead and die. Wait until the right moment to use the catapults, wait until the third row of trenches is full before setting the field ablaze. When the fifth row of trenches is full, light the sixth row ablaze first, then the ones filled by wildfire covered arrows. That is all I can tell you.”

Jon found his words,

“But what about the Ice Dragons? Will they attack before or after we do that?”

Bran looked up to Jon and briefly thought of telling him then about his real name, instead, Bran just shook his head,

“I can’t tell you. Certain details change. The future can change at the slightest moment. I don’t know the decisions that can trigger these changes. I don’t know what state of time everything I see is. Especially the ones with war. For weeks I have been focusing on finding the war flashes that were here in Winterfell. I have seen past battles. I have seen Alysanne and Jaehaerys Targaryen’s visit to Winterfell. Their dragons were beautiful, I’d show you if I could Daenerys.

The further I go back though, the harder it is to bring my mind back to the present. I could end up in my warg state until my mind catches up to where my mind went. That is why I was warged most of the trek from the Great Weirwood Tree until we got close to the Wall. I went too far back. I saw father, Uncle Benjen, Uncle Brandon, and aunt Lyanna as kids. As pleasant as seeing a happier past is, jumping forward took too long and my mind was lost in flashes of images I couldn’t place. I wasn’t sure where I was in time until we drew closer to the Wall.”

No one spoke for some time, they all instead looked out to the field in front of them. Everyone, except Bran, was thinking of more battle plans. They didn’t want to rely on siege tactics. Tyrion had a few ideas, but he wanted to hear the others first. His clever plans were getting more and more flawed it seemed and Tyrion already felt immense guilt of the ill advice he’d been giving and didn’t want to give Daenerys more. Yara and Theon had joined them as everyone was mulling over their ideas. Varys telling them the new plans before they stood among the group. Yara charged up to Daenerys after hearing the new plans,

“Your men have already started digging the trenches out far enough. Once they finish the first four rows, leave enough space for some of our combined armies. We’ll kill off whatever stragglers come through. If there’s as many or more than we saw, I’m not sure if Wildfire will burn them quicker than they can charge or trample over one another. Once those trenches are lit, it will buy us time to kill off those who make it through and retreat as needed, set more wildfire where we once stood, and to close the gaps where we retreated.”

Dany agreed immediately but swept her gaze over the field. She had taken Jon flying over Winterfell the day before and saw how vast the fields were surrounding the castle. Daenerys had another plan to add,

“Four rows of trenches per section. I want twelve rows total with enough space between each set to hold enough soldiers. Think of the design like bricks. The lines that separate each brink is the little space between each hole. Leave a bigger gap to allow more to come in, this field is too big to have small trenches. My forces are instructed to make the trenches one-hundred feet long, twenty feet deep. I want them twenty feet wide as well. Maybe the giants will fall in. I imagine the first trenches will fill very quickly. I don’t want our men overrun. We should have each garrison carry wildfire with them to fill the larger gaps if the trenches don’t fill quickly enough. If too many come through before the trenches fill, I want the men to through the wildfire onto the opening’s, set it ablaze, and retreat. We need to save our manpower. We repeat this until the last set of trenches are filled. Leave one-hundred meters of space from the walls to the closest trenches. This space will hold our main catapults. Some of the walls here are big enough to hold a few. All of the archers will man the walls, men will keep manning and resetting the catapults. Once these Ice Spiders and Giants show themselves, I want the catapults to aim for them. If any are able, the Ice dragons too. Jon and I will keep them from the castle as long as we can.”

Jon stepped in,

“We want the archer to also aim for White Walks when they see them. The trenches will keep the areas lit. The burning trees too.”

Sansa turned to Jon,

“We’re burning a forest now?”

Jon huffed but someone else spoke. From the doorway stood Jaime Lannister with a look of ice in his eyes,

“The Wildfire will spread to anything close enough and keep burning. The rotted trees will catch fire quickly. You should have some archers aim for the trees as soon as the dead break through them, the distance is very far though. Unless the catapults can reach so far, I don’t see them catching fire easily.”

A fault in their plans already was a bit discouraging. Daenerys felt unnerved by Jaime’s presence. She always felt this way around him. She understood his reasons for killing her father, but she didn’t completely trust the man. Daenerys didn’t like him in close quarters, having Jon beside her gave her confidence,

“I’m glad we have your mind for this then, Lannister.”

Arya looked at everyone’s faces, truly stumped again. Having a plan for the moment the dead would break through the trees until the moment they would possibly reach the walls of Winterfell was important. Everyone’s ideas were good, some better than others, but Arya knew they would need all the input they could get.

“Call another meeting. I’ll have the war map brought to the Great Hall. Th-”

Cut off by Bran, everyone turned to him,

“Do it now, while we have time, the dead are making stops. Villages haven’t cleared out. Not all castles will be evacuated in time. We have a week and a half. Out strategies need to be sound. Their arrival could come quicker.”

Jon and Daenerys shared another gaze. Worry in their eyes. Concern and fear in their hearts. Bran was right, they’d need all the input they could get. They would need back up plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long one and it took a lot of thinking. So. Many. Ideas.  
> I want to have a visual of their war plan so I'm working on that. War planning is not easy. I wanted all these characters input in ways that felt true to their characters. Some are, of course, more concerned with weapons, others the actual war plans. I also wanted to see Tyrion take a step back from war plans since we saw his war plans play out in seasons 7 and 8.


	7. Fire and Ice Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 3 Part 1 of 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode is going to be a long one. I've been debating on war plans and what direction I want to go and I have decided NOT to follow the canon Battle of Winterfell. There will be similar elements involved in the coming battles, but it will be vastly different from the show. 
> 
> I KID YOU NOT, I CALCULATED AND REMADE THE NUMBERS OF SOLDIERS TO MAKE WAR PLANS AND ACCOUNT FOR FUTURE LOSSES. Planning for the wars to come is hard and I want it to be realistic and non-simplistic.
> 
> Also, for any Westworld fans, I put in a little easter egg as a nod to my second favorite HBO series. There is more going on with Sansa than just not liking Dany and Tyrion losing his cleverness.

Fire & Ice

Four days had passed since the War Council meeting. Four days since all the soldiers got to digging the trenches and learning the fields. The training was doubled down. If you weren’t digging, you were training, followed by a good night’s rest. The newcomers were hardening, but Jon and the others who knew what was coming had other fears. How many would try to turn back as soon as they saw the dead? How many would remain frozen in fear? Daenerys didn’t worry for her Dothraki or Unsullied, but she did for her allies and the others. Her forces from Essos loved challenges. They didn’t waste time in going for the kill. Many of the North’s forces and her allies were learning from the Dothraki especially. The Unsullied as well. 

There would be no time to waste to go for the kill. Even Daenerys was learning. The sight of the Dragon Queen in deep red armor fitted to her body was a distraction at first. Many men ogled until they caught Jon’s eye. They’d shiver and turn away immediately. Within those four days, everyone knew who had claimed the Dragon Queen and who had claimed their King. Everyone knew that the two were infatuated with one another and began to talk. The talk was short-lived as there were more important matters. 

Sansa kept her silence and tends to the castle's needs. Even with the war to come, she didn’t approve of the Dragon Queen learning to fight. Her weariness never withdrew. Sansa could see Arya liked Daenerys Targaryen enough to teach and give the Dragon Queen pointers and if she were honest with herself, Sansa was jealous. Jon was leading and taking charge of Winterfell once more and her input wasn’t asked or needed. Jon was either with the wildlings or the Dragon Queen and to Sansa, this was an insult. Their family, all the ones alive, were together and Jon lets himself become pray to a Dragon. Tyrion’s voice broke Sansa out of her thoughts,

“You should go with the others.”

Turning, Sansa looked down at her ex-husband and raised a brow. Tyrion continued, looking at her unwaveringly,

“I know that Winterfell is your home, but you aren’t fighting. We can’t have people here who aren’t fighters. You will be protected, along with all the others leaving. Winterfell isn’t safe until this war is over.”

Seeing her face turn from the emotionless expression and twist into anger was a sight for Tyrion. In King’s Landing, Sansa had kept her expression soft and unreadable. Seeing her express herself was freeing but unsettling since the emotion wasn’t pleasant. Sansa all but shouted,

“You are right. This is my home. Winterfell is in the hands of the Starks again and we are driven from our home yet again. I may not be fighting, but I pledged I would never go south again. Not with Cersei lurking and planning. Not with enemies at my doorstep. I. Won’t. Leave.”

Tyrion sighed,

“So, you wish to die here? Is that it? What happened to the girl who survived by any means necessary? You have survived my nephew, my sister, and your last husband. You have survived, do not give your life up because of your pride. Pride is the reason there aren’t soldiers and Lords present for this war! Your brother's pride. Your father's pride. Robert Baratheon’s pride. My father’s pride. Even Theon Greyjoy’s pride. All of their actions cost the lives of thousands. Yet, you weren’t one of the lives lost. Between the War of the Five Kings and until now. You haven’t had to endure life-threatening injuries! You were beaten and raped, and I am sorry that none of us were able to protect you from it all. But this war coming…it isn’t just you at stake Sansa. Winterfell is your home, yes. It is also the key point to protecting the Realm. All those innocents my sister is letting starve. Who will save them, guide them to safer places? Go with them. We have evacuation plans!”

Tears were in Sansa’s eyes as she shook her head in denial. A hardened expression etched into her face,

“No. I can’t leave my home again.”

Tyrion looked at her with pleading eyes,

“Why not?! You would be safe. We plan to have all the people who can’t fight moved to Dragonstone. If we can’t end things here, Dragonstone is where we re-group to plan an attack at the Twins and then Harrenhal. If we fail here, the fewer men we have and the further South we are forced to go. You and all the others will be taken to Dragons Bay for safety is the country falls to the Dead or my sister. We are trying to keep as many of you alive as possible with as many fighters that we can spare, Sansa, can’t you see that?”

Sansa looked at the gloomy looming clouds. She had waited so long to come home. Sansa had longed for home for years. Being here with the Bolton’s didn’t count, not with enemies in every hall. They had rebuilt what was lost after the Battle of the Bastards. They had begun to heal and now she had to leave again. 

“It isn’t fair…”

Her tone had a lingering pitch alike to how she said those words as a child. Sansa didn’t want to be that child again, but the words were true. 

“We lost everything. Each of us were alone for years. We only just… the pack finally reunited. Bran volunteers to be bait. Arya and Jon will be fighting. I can’t leave them! They are the only family I have left!”

Sansa didn’t wait for a reply. She turned and stormed into the halls of the castle. She stormed into her room and locked her door. Finally, away from the ever-present eyes and ears, Sansa cried. She cried for the day Robert Baratheon and his damned court came into her home. She cried for her actions and what her wishes had cost. She cried for father, mother, Robb, and Rickon. She cried for their loyal bannermen who tried to protect her family with their lives. She cried for the little protection her family now has. Savages and rapists in their walls, not just the Dragon Queen’s forces. Sansa could not forget how the loyalty of the North didn’t save her from Ramsey, the Greyjoy Ward had. Sansa longed to go back to the day her family had welcomed the royal family into their home. She longed to end Joffrey then and there. To end Cersei and all the people who came North that would harm her loved ones. But Sansa knew these wishes wouldn’t be answered and the past deeds wouldn’t be undone. Sansa had vowed to never make the same mistakes as her parents and Robb. But maybe, just maybe, the Dragon Queen wasn’t another mistake for her family. The thought flees from her mind as the suspicion takes hold of her once more. 

**_The Dragon Queen looks to take the North from the Starks. She is a threat. She will kill us all given the chance. You cannot trust her._ **

The words are in her voice, but Sansa hears a deeper one echoing behind it. Are these words hers? Are any of the choices she makes under her own mind? Is this my story, or the one I was given to follow through? 

The sudden awareness has her running again. Not caring to stop at anyone she passes. She runs to the one who can give her the answers. Sansa runs to the Weirwood Tree. Bran is seated near its face. His face already turned to her. There is silence and without blinking, her brother opens his mouth,

“No, they aren’t.”

_____________________________________

Davos Seaworth was a worried man. He was a man with a wife he hadn’t seen in years since Stannis took him North. Where his wife and youngest children were now, he knew not. Davos had more worries though. He had taken to being in the background. Never having been in Winterfell, he didn’t know many of these Northerners. But he had come to know Daenerys’ forces. He admired their hard wills and strong nature. He also knew that there was a barrier between Daenerys’ allies and the Northerners. Language was one, behavior was another. The distrust was hard to overcome for the Northern Lords, but the soldiers and people were becoming used to the foreign presence. The people who came to fight may not be able to understand when the Unsullied and Dothraki speak, but they copied what Daenerys’ men did and they learned. 

Davos Seaworth felt that this is what Daenerys is capable of. He didn’t see destruction, but new bridges built and met halfway. He saw people meeting and befriending others they’d never have met without the Army of the Dead. Davos also saw what the Lords turned their eyes from. Daenerys’ smile. Anyone over the age of thirty would know Queen Rhaella’s smile. It must upset them, to see the ghost of the good fallen Queen in the girl they wish were her father. Davos had seen enough of Daenerys and Jon together to know that marriage between them would be the most prosperous solution for the Seven Kingdoms after this war is won. 

“Off to feed the children again, Davos?”

Looking down, Davos sees Daenerys’ Hand with a false smile on his face. He has worn many of those lately and it made Davos uneasy,

“Aye, I am. What about you Lord Tyrion?”

Simply shrugging, Tyrion fell into step with Davos,

“I’m just seeing how things are progressing for preparations and such. The last of the ones leaving Winterfell will be gone soon…”

Davos nodded and kept his gaze straight ahead,

“Will you be going with them? With Lady Sansa?”

The imp stopped and cleared his throat,

“Our Queen says I should go to Dragonstone with the others, but has given me other commands.”

Davos stopped and looked around, they were in the middle of a courtyard, no one walked too close to overhear them. Tyrion didn’t seem to care whether or not he was overheard. But at Davos’ cautioned expression he stepped close to the man and spoke lowly,

“I am to take the last few rounds of people and go to the Twins. Cersei has left it empty and only the Frey girls reside there now. No one has bothered them, and they are in favor of the Stark’s. It appears one of the Stark children are responsible for all the Frey men dying.”

Davos nodded and looked at Tyrion expectantly,

“And what of Edmure Tully?”

Tyrion had his complete attention on Davos now,

“In Riverrun. It appears the garrison our Queen sent to the castle was able to clear the Tully’s ancestral home of the remaining Lannister soldiers loyal to Cersei. Wildfire and plans are being sent with me to the Twins. We will stop at Riverrun to give orders to Edmure and the soldiers there. Olenna and the Martell’s are sparing a few thousand of their soldiers to prepare both the Twins and Riverrun in case we have to fall back or if Cersei makes any moves while we are at war with the dead.”

Davos nodded, he had received orders too,

“I will be joining you on the trip South. But my orders are to stay in Riverrun. The King and Queen have made several plans. Both for Cersei and the Army of Ice.”

Tyrion’s interest was piqued,

“Why do you call them the Army of Ice?”

Davos shrugged and continued walking and Tyrion followed,

“Because their army consists of more than the dead. The power of ice is unknown and has been deemed as the work of the Others. Not the Old Gods or the Seven. Not even R’Hollor. But this war is one of fire and ice. We all need fire to win, they have the cold and winter ice. Dragons, wildfire, and Red Priests. I hope that’ll be enough fire. If not, we’ll need the Doom of Valyria to save us.”

Something clicked for a moment in Tyrion’s mind. Something he had read in his youth in passing. Something important. He prayed he would remember it soon. He knew it was vital. 

Davos saw Tyrion stagger and worried,

“What’s wrong?”

Tyrion tried in vain to remember. He could see the book in his hands. Edged in Targaryen red and black. The pages were old and slightly worn. He could see the words but couldn’t read them. He had read it just before meeting Tysha and falling for her. Anything before meeting her was blurred and revolved around his memories with Jaime or their aunt. Tyrion knew who he had to go to. Shaking his head, he turned and asked Davos,

“Where is Brandon Stark?”

__________________________________________

Daenerys was unsettled. No food was agreeing with her in the past few days. Her initial thoughts were of something she knew was impossible. Pregnancy. It was a dream for her. She longed her more children, but ones without wings and that could breathe without releasing fire. Jon’s words a few months earlier echoed in her mind,

“Has it occurred to you that she may not be a reliable source of information?”

Daenerys wanted to be happy at the idea that it was possible. She wanted to run to Jon and tell him. But what if…  
The Great War  
Cersei  
Sansa

…it isn’t safe to think such a thing could happen to her. Not after Rhaego. But still…she hoped. Daenerys wanted to tell Jon. She wanted him next to her as she stood in front of her mirror observing her naked body. Instead, Missandei was at her side and watching intently,

“There is a slight swelling of your belly, your Grace. I know it isn’t from overeating either.”

A playful tone but sweet, nonetheless. A smile and laugh break onto Daenerys’ face. Maybe it would be good to hope. Maybe Jon was right. Daenerys can’t help but think he was meant for her. They fit so well. She knew she wanted him by her side to rule the Kingdoms. She knew he was the man who would break the wheel with her. Having a family with him, was a dangerous dream, but it might not be as unobtainable as she had thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?
> 
> You see that peep of season 1 Sansa? As much as she's suffered and even though she is older, some things/phrases stay with you. Also, her talk with Tyrion was a slight callback to Cersei and Tommen's talk in King's Landing when he tried to convince her to leave. This is to compare Cersei and Sansa and show that while there are similarities, Sansa is the better person and has good intentions.
> 
> No Jon this part of the episode but don't worry, he will have plenty of lines and a POV or two before this episode ends. Speaking of POV's, I will be using more than just Sansa, Tyrion, Dany, and Jon. Arya's is coming up soon, as well as, several other characters. Maybe some POV's of people in the South before this episode is done.
> 
> I am going to try and be descriptive of outfits in the next coming chapters. The ones from the show were very good, although I would have given Emilia more to wear in the Winterfell scenes than the one coat dress. 
> 
> I am still new to posting here on AO3 so I may just find the different outfits I imagine and insert them in the chapters (once I figure out how to do it)


	8. Fire and Ice Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 3 Part 2 of 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff ahead with minor angst and.....
> 
> Just some much needed Jon/Dany time away from others so they can be themselves

Fire and Ice Part 2

Jon wanted to relax. He wanted to be away from the constant complaints of the Lords. Away from the thoughts of the Dead. Finding the springs was easy. The springs of Winterfell had been his hideaway spot in his childhood. He’d only bathed in the springs a handful of times. Jon remembered how the heat of the water had soothed his heartaches. When Catelyn would berate him, Sansa call him a bastard, and Lord Stark ignore it all. Jon remembered how he let those words and hateful looks get to him so easily as a young boy. How he’d cry only here at the springs. How he’d let the springs fill with his tears so no one else would see them. 

Jon stood, looking at the still steaming pools of water. He looked around at the several dark halls surrounding the pools. He had never explored them as a child, knowing that no search would be put out for him in time since Catelyn kept Lord Stark’s attention from him most days. Looking at them now, Jon wondered where they led. He wondered where their entrances were. Jon sighed and came to the conclusion that the entrance he used to come here would have to be sealed off too. 

Suddenly, Jon felt how heavy his armor and clothes were. Shedding them was like shedding his responsibilities. He was just Jon in that moment. He took his first step into a steaming pool for the first time in years. Already, feeling more relaxed and calmed. Once his body was submerged, Jon leaned against the pool and closed his eyes. Breathing deep long breaths. Clearing his mind. Jon saw only the empty darkness behind his eyes. Then it occurred to Jon…. His death. The long darkness and cold. Jon’s eyes flew open and he saw a figure at the entrance he used to get here. It was Daenerys. 

Daenerys looked ever beautiful in the reflection of the torches. Her eyes soft. Her demeanor was no longer rigid. She didn’t have to maintain her Queenly stances in private with those she trusted. She wore a smile. Still floating on her cloud of happiness. The thought of having Jon’s child, any child, was a blessing.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Immediately, Jon smiled back at his Queen and said,

“The water is hot. But I know you prefer it that way.”

Shedding her clothes, Dany stood before her King in all her glory. The look the two shared, there would be pleasures in this pool today. Stepping into the pool, Dany relaxed and was welcoming the heat. The heat of the water was just as she preferred. Almost boiling even. She wondered how Jon could stand it. Only those with Targaryen Blood of the Dragon of Old Valyria could withstand fire and heat like this. The thought was rationalized quickly. The Starks have had these springs for centuries, of course they could withstand this heat. 

“I’ve been thinking Jon…”

Their eyes, never leaving one another as she too submerged into the water,

“If we are to survive this war, I want to have you by my side.”

Jon nodded,

“Of course, it is the least the North will owe you. We’ll march south and end Cersei and her rule. We’ll-”

“No, Jon. Well yes, we will march together, but I want you by my side, as we take the Iron Throne.”

Jon’s heart jumped in his chest and his face filled with tense heat from the implications,

“Dany…. what do you mean?”

The silver-haired beauty floated to Jon’s side and place a hand over his heart and brought one of his over hers. 

“Shekh ma shieraki anni (my sun and stars). The only man I have called this was my first husband.

Jalan atthirari anni (moon of my life). The only man that has called me this was my first husband.

Avy jorraelan (I love you). This is something I have never said to any man before you. 

Ao ynoma diniluks? (Will you marry me). You are the first man I have ever wanted to willingly marry, Jon Snow.

Growing up, I thought I would end up marrying Viscerys. He was cruel and violent at times. When he sold me to Drogo, my first husband, it took months to establish something good. When I came along with my first child, I wanted happiness for that child’s future. When I was first with child, I knew that I wanted a better world than the one I lived in. I thought Drogo would be the solution, to create a better world. Now, I know the raping and looting wouldn’t have stopped under his rule. His own bloodriders turned on him for listening to me. But Drogo did respect me and love me in his own way before he died. Since then, I’ve had lovers. I told you about Hizdar, he was not a lover. Political marriages rarely end up having a good bed life. In the end, despite my suspicions and distrust, Hizdar was a friend. Then came you. The stubbornness of the North, honor of the Starks.   
Nothing is ever straightforward. Taking the Iron Throne has not been an easy task. Getting the love and loyalty of the people has been harder. But then there is you. Refusing my wishes to bend the knee. Refusing to enter my war with Cersei. Standing to defend your people. Standing to proclaim warnings of the coming war. Proving to me that my war with Cersei was not as important as everyone had me think. 

All my life, I’ve only known ‘re-taking the Iron Throne.’ It was my brothers wish and he grew crazed because of it. It became my wish and I had abandoned the idea of crossing the Narrow Sea for years in my campaign of ending slavery in Slaver’s Bay. Then I come home, to Dragonstone. The place of my birth. The place where my mother lost her life. And I find you. 

I always knew that I would likely have to marry a Lord here in Westeros to gain allies. But you didn’t force such an idea on me. We have been equals for some time, Jon Snow. You are a King. I am a Queen. Together, we serve the people and protect them. So, will you take my hand, Jon Snow? Will you be by my side from this day, till our last? Will you be my King?”

Jon was at a loss for words, but he nodded immediately. Almost everything he ever told himself he cannot have, he does now. A title. A home. A woman who loves him. It was almost too much for him. All those years that Lady Catelyn Stark held Jon down and feared the threat he could become to Robb. Internally, Jon shook his head. Her actions had caused the downfall of her own son and the Stark house. How different would their lives all been if she hadn’t seen him as a threat? If I had gotten all of these blessings while she and Robb still lived, she’d have had Jon sent away or killed. Robb…Jon wondered how Robb would have reacted to all of this. Jon felt his brother would have been happy for him. Deep down though, he knew Robb would have seen him as a threat at the same time. 

Clearing his mind from the rush of thoughts, Jon proclaimed in a sure and steady voice,

“Of course. You have my heart. My swords is yours. I’ve only ever dreamed of having anything like this. What we have, Daenerys…I thought I had it once before. But she was gone before we could even make amends. We were on opposite sides of a battle that should never have happened. You and I fight for the same thing. We want the same thing. We will build a better world-”

“Than the one we were born into.”

Tears in both of their eyes, they kissed. They kissed and their bodies met for a long-awaited session of love. Their bodies both reaching a heat that exceeded the water around them. Both were none the wiser. Their love and bodies responded only to each other. Neither spotted the retreating figure that had been observing the turn of history from the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't write smut/lemons so you get the gist of the end of this scene here. 
> 
> Still haven't been able to find any artwork to post for a depiction of outfits. But bare with me.
> 
> Next up, so unforeseen actions and the beginning of character deaths. Finally some gore and war.
> 
> Hint: Just because everyone North of King's Landing is preparing for war up North doesn't mean others won't strike where it hurts


	9. Fire and Ice Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode 3 Part 3 of 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued support. I am working on having another chapter up in about a week.

Ice & Fire Part 3

Arya was worried. While training was progressing, the amount of dragonglass Jon and his Queen brought North was getting low. Time was running short. It would be a matter of quick days before the dead arrived. Jon and Queen Daenerys were scattering their combined forces. Having all the generals and Lords know the paths to take for retreat if needed. The horn-boys were practicing the retreat, withdraw, and white walker calls when they weren’t training. 

It pained Arya to know that the Crypts and springs were being sealed off. She, Sansa, Bran, and Jon had gone to say their possibly final goodbyes to Father and Robb. They also paid respects to their Aunt Lyanna, Uncle Brandon, and Grandfather Rickard Stark. As the nights grew colder, Jon had every unknown hall sealed off as well. She had taken a look down in the springs and saw the many dark tunnels. Arya didn’t even know there had been so many. She trusted Jon’s instinct and aided in making sure every inch of the castle was secured. 

Arya was also nervous because she would be leading the day's War Council. She had made her observations. She’s trained with all of the armies that came to Winterfell. She had input. Jon was already tired. The Dragon Queen was training every day for hours as well as aiding her people. Sansa stayed in the castle or on the battlements. She had given Sansa a dragonglass dagger and it took days of persuasion for her to take it. Tomorrow would be the last day for the children, elderly, and those appointed elsewhere to leave. The imp, Ser Davos, Sansa, and others in Jon and the Dragon Queen’s council would be gone either right after this meeting or tomorrow. Jon had tried to persuade her to go with them. She refused. A girl is Arya Stark and she will protect her home. Arya would see this new face of Death for herself. Arya would fight. Arya would protect the Realm.

Standing in the War Room with the map of Westeros in front of her, Arya was at the head of the board. All the Lords and her family watched her while Daenerys observed all the Lord's faces. Arya stood still as a statue, making sure she had everyone’s attention. When Daenerys looked her way, she started,

“We need an escape plan. We have enclosed ourselves. The last of the trenches are almost done. It’s a maze out there. We need to have a clear way to leave if we need to. From what Jon has told me, they will come from the North and along the rim of our trenches as they attack. It will be only a short while before they encircle us completely and fill most of the first tier of trenches. That’s a problem. They won’t fill the first tier of trenches evenly. 

As our soldier’s light sections ablaze and cut off the parts between each trench, more of the army will go around and around. We will face many losses in the first tier. But once it is sealed off, we will stand a better chance. The good thing is that by making the tiers of trenches in oval shapes, the north side will fill first before the west and east sides need to be heavily defended. Our archers in the first tier will be optimal. Dragonglass and fire arrows. 

As we withdraw to the castle, the dead will end up putting out the wildfire with their sheer amount. The first tier of trenches may still be burning, but not as strongly. The second and third tiers will be harder. We will have to wait until the third tier is filled and retreated before killing as many as we can and clearing the southern side of the trenches to make a path to escape. My hope is that the Ice Dragons, giants, and Ice Spiders will be mostly dealt with and that Queen Daenerys’ dragons can clear the path. But they would also reignite the wildfire that was smothered. 

I say we use the soil that is being dug up to put out the wildfire in our paths as we retreat but use the wildfire we have left to give us a boundary from the dead at our sides as we run. Keep most of the calvary for the defense of the castle itself. We will need all the horses to still have the energy for the retreat. From our retreat, we ride to either Moat Cailin or White Harbor. Set the border of Moat Cailin with Wildfire and evacuate as much as you can into the Riverlands. This is the first border we will need the most Wildfire for. Have it as wide and soaked into the mud as possible, it needs to keep burning so we can recover. Anyone not going to the Riverlands will go to White Harbor with the rest of the ships and go to Dragonstone. There, everyone should rest…and Queen Daenerys should attack King’s Landing.”

Shouts and movements of displeasure filled the room. But Daenerys looked at the young Stark girl with a question,

“Why should I attack King’s Landing?”

Arya looked the Queen in her eyes and vehemently stated,

“Because Cersei will strike you otherwise. Your forces will be weak and probably outnumbered. Having everyone on the boats resting and healing all the way to Dragonstone should be enough time for them to reach better stamina. If you see Euron’s fleet, attack it with your dragons. But by then, Cersei will have defenses against your children. Circle out of view and range until you are behind the fleet and set it on fire. Your ships will have catapults. I made sure of it. Any catapult not being used here is being brought and mantled onto the evacuation ships. 

The Riverlands have plenty of trees to make more catapults. And that’s what I’ve instructed for the people who have already left Winterfell to do. I know I didn’t have an order, but we have an enemy in the North and South. My uncle Edmure Tully and the Blackfish hold Riverrun. They will oversee and take care of the people who are arriving there. I have also found some aspiring pyromancers among the people who came to aide us. I’ve had them also go with the people to either Dragonstone or Riverrun. There will be more Wildfire made for our defenses and against Cersei.”

A moment of silence filled the room before Lord Hornwood and Manderly protested,

“Why don’t we just fall back to our castles and remake the trenches and everything there?”

Arya kept her face emotionless, but her eyes were deadly,

“There. Won’t. Be. Time. If it is your people you worry for, do not. I have instructed the people who have already left Winterfell to have any non-fighters leave with them on their journey. Queen Daenerys’ ships are just cycling from White Harbor to Dragonstone and back to make sure everyone is safe. By time the Battle of Winterfell takes place, the ships arriving in White Harbor will be for our forces and horses that are too tired. There should be almost one-hundred ships waiting for us in rotations. Staying docked for only thirty minutes before the next ship come behind them. Only the most tired horses and soldiers will get on the ships first. With this rotation, all of us will be evacuated from the North in a matter of hours upon arrival at White Harbor. There will be no time to waste.

We all ride South together till the fork for White Harbor and Moat Cailin. By the time we reach the fork, we’ll know who can’t make it on horse down to the Riverlands and which horses can make it only to White Harbor. Even with my suspected losses, I know we all will have to ride at least two to a horse or with the dragons. There won’t be any wagons. They’ll only slow the horses down.”

It was then that a Dothraki spoke in his brutal language. Once he finished speaking, Daenerys translated,

“Dothraki horses can carry five men at once. We will carry the weakest to the Riverlands.”

Then Lord Royce spoke up as well,

“The horses of the Vale are armored. They are used to extra weight. Without the weight of their armor, they can carry several people as well. We will also carry as many as we can.”

Arya nodded and gave a small smile of appreciation, 

“Speaking of armor, the plates made for your dragons are nearly done, but we think it would be best for you to put it on them. Have them get used to the weight.”

Daenerys smiled and nodded, happy at the consideration of care for her children. She hadn’t really considered them needing such protection but facing other dragons…they would need it. Bran who had been silent in the entire meeting suddenly spoke,

“We have only five days left. We need to hurry. They are almost done with the Karstark lands. He split his army. He is in the Karstrk lands. The others are in the Umber, Wull, Norrey, Burley, and Knott lands. Almost upon Bolton lands, Harclay, and Glover lands. They will converge on us from the North mostly, as Arya predicted. But the West and East will be hit hard after the initial wave…. Rest your dragons Daenerys. They will need two days' rest for the ice dragons coming. There is…ten of them.”

Collective gasps filled the room and the air grew dense. Daenerys was suddenly very aware of how her three dragons were hardly a positive defense now. Bran still stared into empty air and then suddenly jerked,

“Your followers of R’hollor have a few tricks up their sleeves. Their Lord of Light will aide us…he will give us…more…”

It was Sansa who asked the question with fright in her eyes,

“More what Bran?”

Slowly, his head turned, and he looked around the room,

“You will all see what I am, eventually. I can’t keep giving you all these details. It’s a risk and gamble of my power. Looking in the future… I can get lost there too and speak to what could be a possible future Arya, Jon, or Daenerys. There are too many possibilities. So, I cannot tell you who lives and dies in the coming battles and war. It’s too subjective. But I have told you all that I can about the future for now.”

With that, Bran closed off again, staring into the air. It was several moments before Arya began to speak again,

“So, let's plan for two or three escape routes from the trenches to the South.”

Sansa stood alone with Jon, Arya, Bran, and the Dragon Queen in the War Room. She waited to hear where she would be heading. She assumed it would be Riverrun. She hadn’t seen her Tully relatives before and wanted to at least spend her exile from home with someone she shared blood with. Sansa still didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t want to die from the hands or weapon of a bloody corpse. She did her best to not pace around as her family and the Dragon Queen looked at her. It was Jon who spoke though,

“We have decided it would be best for you to go to Dragonstone.”

A chill went down her spine and her hopes of familiarity were swept from her mind,

“Why?”

Jon and the Dragon Queen shared a look. Now, the Dragon Queen spoke,

“Because, if we must retreat, I am going with the ships and Jon with the others to Riverrun. Arya’s plan is a good one. If I am to attack King’s Landing, I would like your input on what to do with Cersei.”

Sansa froze. For a split moment, a bright smile quickened on her face before she schooled her features. The mere thought of Cersei being at her mercy…she would make that woman suffer as she did. Sansa wanted to make the vile woman pay and she suspected many others did too. The many thoughts of pain to inflict on Cersei was a good distraction, Sansa thought to herself. She nodded to the Dragon Queen and Arya spoke next,

“It is likely that the remaining North’s forces and Daenerys’ will each be split to go with Daenerys or Jon. Some of each side will be either on Dragonstone or in Riverrun. You will be safe. You will have a castle of people who need to be given work. At Dragonstone, there is still plenty of more Dragonglass. Have the people who are able to mine it do so. Some should still be being mined. But we will need a restock. Wildfire will also be being made as well. Should Euron’s fleet try to siege Dragonstone, light them up, Sansa. Protect the island and the people there.”

Daenerys stepped forward and clasped her hands together,

“Dragonstone is my ancestral home. I am asking you to protect it with as much ferocity as I am protecting yours. I was born during the worst storm imaginable in that castle. I only just returned to it months ago. I would like to see it still intact when I return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was an interesting chapter. No Cersei this time, but she's coming up for the end of this episode. 
> 
> Right now I'm really enjoying making Harry Potter and ASOIAF/GOT content. So, I recently started a Harry Potter/GOT crossover AU. Feel free to check it out. I will have another chapter for that out sometime this week too.


	10. Fire and Ice Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4 of 4 of Episode 3
> 
> WARNING: This chapter will include graphic imagery and obvious time skips/differences in POV (more on the time differences will be explained at the end notes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the images in this chapter

Fire & Ice Part 4

They are all traitors. My city is nearly empty. They waited this long to tell me. ME. Their Queen. They should have informed me immediately. They don’t care about me. I am a Lannister. How dare they?! Their pathetic lives, better they starve, better they freeze and die. Worthless the whole lot of them! I should have set the whole city on fire with the false queen they loved so much. They cheered for her. They never cheered for me. Not when I wed that whoring oaf Robert, not when I gave birth to all my children. Their cheers were for the babies and my husband.

I am Cersei Lannister, I am the Queen, I am the one who bore those weak whelps they called Prince, Princess, and King. Yet they threw their rotten food, their shit, their bodily fluids at me. They flashed their disgusting bodies and mocked me. I wish the city had blown up then. I’m tired of waiting for those savages to come down to fight me for my throne. They won’t win either way, but I tire of waiting. I tire of letting that smelly big-cocked pirate in my bed. No matter how pleasurable his cock, it wasn’t Jaime’s. I even begin to bore of the man I have keep my bed warm. His Jaime-like features don’t have the effect they used to, but he’ll have to do.

Whether it was him or the pirate who got me with child since I started bedding them, I don’t know. I don’t care. My bedwarmer looks enough like Jaime for me to claim the child as his after I get rid of the pirate. If the child comes out with darker hair…I guess I could claim Euron as it’s father. Not that he’ll get a chance to be one. The Mountain knows his commands. Even sitting on my throne doesn’t have its usual radiation of power. Whatever the seven hells is going on, it annoys me.

My body jolts and I feel movement inside of me. I smile, joy comes sudden at times like this. My child moves within me. Strong and moving with speed. Qyuburn says that his newest treatment will keep my child alive, unlike the last one. Jaime’s. They would have been twins. How lovely would that have been…The last of the Lannister’s. Together they’d create a dynasty better and greater than the Targaryen’s. Under my rule and guidance of course. Then, if Jaime were to be captured and brought back to my bed, where he belongs, they would have more brothers and sisters. If that scoundrel Ser Bronn would hurry, I could take Jaime to my bed and claim this child as his. He wouldn’t question it, he loves me. Jaime is mine.

Mine.

The swishing movement in my belly continues and I pull open my robe, not caring for my nudity. At first, it took weeks to get used to the growing green blotches on my belly. Qyuburn is sure that this is my abdominal muscles strengthening. Keeping my body strong so that my baby shall move freely and as hard as it wished. My belly now noticeably protruded from my body. Whenever my baby stretched against my skin, I could see its little fist or foot make an imprint, after it would leave behind a small green bruise. I worried for my baby. Would my own body not betray me this time? My own body is treasonous. Will my baby be weak like my own body?

No.

I won’t allow my child to be weak like Joffrey, or Mrycella, or Tommen. They all left me. They all turned their backs on their mother. For lust to get their cocks and pussies fucked by pretty faces. As beautiful as those children were, they were fools and they wore their shrouds wonderfully. This child will be greater and bring me glory.

Turning from my balcony, I see my replacement sleeping soundly on my bed. My body runs hot. I approach him. He is going to be blessed again for the twelfth time this morning. Stirring his cock while he sleeps is easy. I know he only dreams of me. His Queen. When his cock is hard as I desire, I remove my robe from my body and climb onto his lap and begin to ride him in fury that my body craves. He winces below me. His cock was already red and sore, I guess. I don’t care. The feeling it brings inside me needs to be here now. I need it and he will give it or die. I see his eyes trying to stay closed, must be to stay focused on pleasing me. He does very well in pleasing his Queen. He groans and whines, but I continue in my stupor. I reach my pleasure four times before I allow his cock to leave me. Immediately he spends himself as I pull my body off of his. I roll onto my side and let my fingers trace along his chest. His breathing is shallow, and I know he has fallen asleep again.

I should call Qyuburn to give him that remedy for the poor man’s cock. The salve and the juice to keep his blood pumping down there. Maybe I will send for Euron after all. Maybe I’ll have the Mountain gag and tie him so I can ride his fat cock whenever I please as well. Letting out a sigh, I decide that a short nap would be best for now.

* * *

­­­

Sansa felt strange seeing Winterfell disappear in the distance again. Her second time leaving her home. The home she vowed to never leave again. She spoke to no one as she watched her home until it was out of sight. Sansa had tried to blink back the tears that wanted to come to her eyes, it was no use. She cried silently and felt alone again for the first time in months.

The others in the cart with their Lady made no move to comfort her. They did not know her. They knew her name, but for many, this was their first time truly seeing her face. Nothing of her looked like her father to them. She was pure Tully in looks. Much like Lady Catelyn had been. Only Sansa looked the most like the Tully’s compared to the other Stark children. They remembered what they could of Robb. How his own hair had darkened as he grew. With age, he looked to be more Stark than Tully. They could not say the same for young Bran. His hair was his mother’s, his coloring was pure Stark. Hair straight, reddish, but grey eyes like Ned Stark. The people had thought many times that Jon and Arya were the only true blood of the North. They remembered all the changes their past lady had brought. All the southern ways.

Under Lady Sansa, they saw change again. She practiced no religion, she dealt with affairs of the castle very well, but she hadn’t spoke to them. The people had only seen glimpses of her from the overhead walkways. They knew not of her character or aspirations for Winterfell or for them. But seeing her cry, maybe she wasn’t so unreachable as they thought. Maybe she did care for the North, not just Winterfell. Only time would tell. How she would lead them on an island, they weren’t sure, but they were ready to give her another chance.

* * *

In a cart several miles south, Samwell Tarly sat staring at the woman he hadn’t seen in many years. Olenna Tyrell. Seeing her dressed in heavy wool greatly differed from his previous memories of her. He remembered his time as a boy when his father had him stay with the Tyrell family for several weeks to become acquainted with his liege Lord. He remembered little Margaery. He remembered Lora’s trying to get him to practice swords with him. He remembered how peaceful their gardens were, how he could hide, and no one find him for hours reading. He remembered when Olenna found him in the library reading and him breaking down in tears, begging for her to not tell his father. He remembered her comforting words and observation that becoming a Maester would be a promising future for him.

He had heard that his father had died.... As well as his little brother. From what he heard from the remnants of the Lannister army, his father and brother had fought for Cersei, against the remaining Tyrell’s. So, Samwell sat in this cart with Lady Olenna, trying to form words. She could tell he wanted to say something and stared right back. Sam could see her patience running thin before she spoke,

“Out with it boy.”

Her tone was clipped due to the cold, but not unpleasant. Samwell gulped and looked down at his hands before looking back at her,

“You may not remember me, my Lady. I’m Samwell Tarly. Son of Randyll Tarly. I was wondering… did… my brother… what happened?”

Samwell fought back tears at the thought of his brother. He remembered how Dickon was always kind and did his duty for their father. The pride and joy of the family. Lady Olenna turned so shockingly fierce that Sam’s thoughts ceased all together.

“They pledged themselves to Cersei Lannister. That is what happened. Mere weeks after my family is blown up, they attended Cersei’s council and marched with the Lannister army to rob my home, kill what remained of my family and myself, and to take Highgarden for the Tarly's to become Warden of the Reach.”

Sam’s jaw dropped and he looked away, but Olenna continued.

“Your father, his men, and his son marched themselves to my gate and yelled they were coming to defend the castle. That the Lannister army was right at their backs and that they came to aide us. A bigger load of shit than the smell in King’s Landing. I wasn’t stupid. My Queen isn’t either. As the Lannister army carried on their ruse that they were going to attack your father’s men, my Queen’s Dothraki came from behind them and the surrounding fields. Trapping your father and his men and the Lannister army. I wish I had seen it, but my grandson’s Garlan and Willas told me all about it. Your father showed his true colors, ordered his men to break down the gate. Storm my home to protect themselves from savages.

Let me tell you, Samwell Tarly. Those Dothraki fought with more honor than your father. They kill swiftly and fight better than my own men knew how at the time. After the battle was over, I had my men trained by the Dothraki under the Queen’s permission. Your father knew my men weren’t nearly as ruthless as his, damn his name. He fought for the Targaryen’s in Robert’s Rebellion you know. He knew what Tywin did to those Targaryen babies. Yet, he joined the woman who used the Mad King’s weapon and champion. Hypocrite and shameless fool.”

Olenna seemed lost in a distant memory as she finished speaking. Samwell was glad he was sitting; he couldn’t feel his legs. His body in shock, his mind horrified. His brother took part in this. Seven Hells! His mother and sister! Do they know? It’s been well over four months since the Battle of Highgarden. He received no post from them, then Sam remembered, they wouldn’t know that he left the Citadel. Gods! Sam felt like a fool. He mustered up some courage and looked at his liege Lady,

“My mother and sister?”

The eyes of his Lady turned sharply back to him,

“Alive and well. The ashes of your father and brother were brought to Horn Hill. From what I heard the ashes were dumped into a nearby river. You sister plans to begin courting once the Great War and our war with Cersei ends. Your mother is acting as Head of House. Queen Daenerys has stationed a garrison of Unsullied to protect their home since they pledged allegiance to our Queen.”

Sam felt some peace in his heart at the news of his family but now had more questions,

“Did she have to burn them?”

The question came out in a whisper and Olenna scoffed, throwing a small book she had been reading at his chest,

“This is war, boy! Would it have made any difference if it had been a sword, wildfire, or fucking rocks? Dragonfire kills quicker than a sword. It can turn you into ash instantly. Their deaths were swift and a mercy. Lord Tyrion proposed to have them kept as prisoner. Would that have been any better with Lord Varys around? I don’t have trust in any of the men in Queen Daenerys’ council but one, Greyworm. A military mind. Even he suggested taking no prisoners who only swore to Cersei Lannister.

Lord Tyrion hasn’t had his heart in this war with his sister. Lord Varys is a spider, I never trust spiders. Too many secrets in that head of his. Secrets and information he only shares when he feels necessary. The movements of Cersei’s army, he neglected to share. He has a wide range of _birds_ , children, who listen to every conversation they can and leads back to him. Did he share that the Crown is heavily in debt and that Casterly Rock is penniless? No, Lord Tyrion told us that information as he planned for the Unsullied to take his ancestral home, knowing it would only be a blow of ego to his sister, nothing more. Little did the little lord know, Cersei gave no shits about her home.

That Iron Throne and the Red Keep is her home. She doesn’t care about the people, the dead coming, or about dragons. Cersei is dangerous. Cersei didn’t care about your father or his men. Rest assured, she’d be the only person left alive if she could. You don’t know, Tarly. You spent years freezing your arse off at the wall. I’m sure the Realm seemed of little importance. The players popping up and players dying.”

Confusion gripped Sam’s brain,

“Players?”

Olenna rolled her eyes,

“That Iron Throne has been a game since Robert’s Rebellion began, maybe even before. Before Robert sat on it, only the Targaryen’s were the main players. Everyone else was just pieces working to keep one on the Iron Throne over the other. But when Robert started his war, he was the newest player, he just didn’t know it. As was Ned Stark. Ned Stark could have ended up King, turned it down and unknowingly, out of the game.

Varys and Littlefinger had served three kings. All three terrible. All three brought nothing good to this continent. Don’t let his actions fool you, Littlefinger served the Mad King as well. Sowing seeds of doubt about Prince Rhaegar’s involvement with the Knight of the Laughing Tree. For a time, Prince Rhaegar was a player too. I remember his letter to my husband, how he wanted to meet at Harrenhal to discuss his father’s position on the throne. You don’t know how different Westeros would be without Robert’s Rebellion. How many more men would we have if Cersei weren’t Queen, if her bastard hadn’t taken the throne or Ned Stark’s head, if Rhaegar never took Lyanna in the first place?

Sansa is a player, has been since Robert came to the North and asked Ned Stark to be his new hand. Now look at her, so close to being Queen of the North. Haven’t you noticed the secret meetings she’s had with certain Lords? The North isn’t pleased that their King bent the knee. Sansa had more allies here before Jon Snow returned. Now, she will be away from her allies and among Daenerys’. My Queen is smart, she is a strategist, but she is also the only hope for a just Queen this continent has.

Cersei has been a player longer. Her father initially wanted her to marry Prince Rhaegar, the Mad King was still somewhat sane when he refused Tywin, but he gained an enemy. Funny, I think, Daenerys has a Lannister for her hand, like her father did. But that’s besides the point. My point is, there is a wheel Samwell Tarly. My Queen wants to break it. Right now, Cersei Lannister is on top but a shadow looms behind her, the Great War. All the mistakes of the past wars have led to Cersei where she is. Do I think she was so evil a few years ago, no. Devious and conniving, but never an outright murderer.

Littlefinger was even a player. As was my granddaughter. Now it’s down to Daenerys and Cersei….and Sansa Stark.”

Samwell was still speechless. The affairs of Westeros was mostly lost to the Night’s Watch. They only heard news of wars when all was said and done. Sam was used to stories of history, not hearing the events firsthand. Sam respected Olenna’s age, they stories she knew, but he was still lost at the mention of Sansa. Olenna knew she had his attention and continued,

“You do know that Sansa spent over five years in King’s Landing? Under Cersei and Littlefinger’s eyes and words. Sansa used to envy Cersei. Told Margaery and I as much. How she took to having her hair decorated like her Queen’s. How much she wanted to please Cersei. After her father’s death however, Cersei started to show her true colors and Sansa had to keep her act, but she was also learning.

In our weeks at Winterfell, I have seen many occasions where Sansa exhibits mannerisms, behaviors, and sayings of Cersei. I did not know Littlefinger well beyond our deal, but I can see she took to his acting. Sansa Stark is no friend to my Queen, she is a threat to your friend, she could be another Cersei in the making.”

Sam found words as his brain began to process the implications,

“But Bran would have said-”

Olenna cut him off with a quick hand gesture,

“I’m sorry, I was under the impression that Jon Snow was your friend, not his brother.”

Sam’s jaw dropped and he stuttered until he found words,

“Of course, Jon is!”

Olenna shrugged,

“Then please do share why I never saw you in his presence? I and others clearly saw you either shadowing Brandon Stark or in the Winterfell library. Jon Snow praised you, claimed his pride that you were training to be a Maester at the Citadel. That is where we all thought you were. Imagine our surprise to see you at Winterfell, not even introduce yourself, and glued to the pages of books and scrolls.

Jon Snow shared with our Queen’s council your letter from the Citadel. He told us that you had killed a White Walker. He told us that you would be the one to find anything of importance for the Great War. Tell me, did you find anything else other than the dragonglass?”

Sam was beginning to sweat. What he found at the Citadel had nothing to do with the Great War. Among the books he had taken, one revolved around Targaryen weapons. Not even his discovery of Rhaegar and Lyanna’s marriage was important, so why did Bran tell him to tell Jon before leaving? Nothing was making sense. Olenna looked at Samwell expectantly. He couldn’t look her in the eye anymore. Gazing down at his intertwined fingers instead,

“Nothing of importance. Only history. There were no books in the open for me to find about the dead. I snuck into the forbidden section before I left. I found a book on the Targaryen’s, but it was about their weapons, conspiracies, and history.”

Olenna raised an eyebrow,

“So you didn’t find anything about the first Great War….only one book about the Targaryen’s, surprising….

Tell me, who would you rather rule: a Queen who has freed slaves, gathered the biggest army, fights for change and betterment for all people, has magic in her blood.…or a Queen who had her husband killed, sired only bastard children, used wildfire within her own city to kill hundreds, falsely accused her own brother of murdering her son, gave power to a faith militant only to blown up the place of worship? What good has Cersei done for Westeros just to stay Queen? If you didn’t know whose name was attached to those actions, you would think Cersei was a second Mad King.

Did the members of the Citadel have nothing to say of the war between Cersei and Daenerys when it started?”

Sam shook his head. Olenna smiled, clapping her hands together and rubbing them quickly,

“So, they didn’t include you in their anti-Targaryen society. Did you know that Cersei was having scorpions made to kill my Queen’s dragons? Where do you think those plans came from? It surely wasn’t from a disgraced Maester. Surely, you’ve read about Summerhall. The great Targaryen-Dynasty burned down to three. The Targaryen Madness, how it suddenly appears in rulers who were peaceful and kind. The Faith used to be a part of this conspiracy till the Targaryen’s stopped wedding more than one person.

I have known many Targaryen’s in my day. I knew Queen Daenerys’ father, mother, and her grandparents in my youth. I was supposed to marry a Targaryen, but no war started because I wanted to marry someone else. Unlike Tywin, I didn’t hold all my cards with the Targaryen’s. To be too close to the Dragon’s was a target on your back from the Citadel. The Tyrell’s have used Essosi healers for decades now. We loosely followed the Seven. My family prospered because of me. I had my children and many more grandchildren because of this. Now, I only have two grandchildren to carry on my legacy and teachings. We didn’t need poison to end my house, a few caches of wildfire did it.”

It occurred to Samwell then and he began to piece it together,

“Ser Jorah Mormont was in the Citadel hospital for months before I arrived. Affected with Greyscale he contracted while passing through Old Valyria. No one wanted to treat him. Even when I found theoretically treatments. The first thing he asked me was about Daenerys if she had come to Westeros yet. They-they didn’t want to treat him. They never commended me for being the first person to successfully remove Greyscale from someone’s body. They didn’t even acknowledge Ser Jorah as a person. Often discussing his ailment with disgust, but it wasn’t the Greyscale, it was who he served. Wasn’t it?”

Olenna stared Sam down. He felt sweat begin to drip down his face and slowly, Olenna smiled,

“Maybe you aren’t a lost cause after all, boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delayed update. Work over the past month was hectic, I took too many extra shifts and am finally caught up on enough rest that I feel confident in posting this chapter. It took some re-writing and a bunch of thinking. 
> 
> So, I realized I didn't include what Dany's allies will be doing. Olenna is going with Sam to Riverrun. The Sand Snakes will fight in the Great War, but not all of them. One is being sent to Dragonstone. 
> 
> Olenna's conversation with Sam was a hard one to make but her words came easy. Sam was harder. I loved having Olenna say Jon was Sam's friend, not Bran. I found it strange how much loyalty Sam had to Bran in the show. He only met him once before seeing him again in Winterfell. His loyalty to Jon seemed superficial in the end. 
> 
> Clarification on Cersei: she miscarried Jaime's baby and got pregnant by either Euron or the iron Bank representative. She is only several weeks along but Qyuburns experimentation has rapidly progressed her pregnancy. Her body is also changing due to the experimental concoctions Cersei has been taking to make sure her baby lives. She is losing her mind, growing to be quite delusional, vert distrustful, and anxious. What she'll do next (during or after the Battle of Winterfell) you'll have to wait and see.
> 
> In the next episode, the Battle of Winterfell will start, but at the end of the episode. More Dany/Jon talks and action to come. A dragon ride perhaps. A much-needed talk with Arya. I will be clearer on who is still in Winterfell and who isn't in the next chapter. A horrible realization or two as well.
> 
> In the meantime, please feel free to comment and ask questions. I have some dark things planned....


	11. Who They Saw and When They Came

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode Part 1 of 5

Who They Saw and When They Came

The swaying of the boat made Sansa dizzy. The voyage was long. Longer than the one she’d had only a year and a half ago. She hadn’t slept for days, only drifting to sleep for a quick nap in the passing time. No one had spoken to her and sometimes Sansa was glad for it. She remembered how she had wanted no one to even notice her while she was captive in King’s Landing, now the people around her sat around silent as well. Most likely worried for their loved ones. For their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, and friends.

A jolt of pain echoed in Sansa’s heart. Guilt. She had worried about her home, but she wasn’t thinking of Arya, Jon, or even Bran. Instead, she was aching for the safety she felt in the walls of Winterfell after Ramsey died. Overwhelmed by the sensation of tears coming to her eyes, Sansa tried desperately to not let them flow onto her cheeks. But she failed and quiet sobs came with them. Sansa felt it truly wasn’t fair, to have her home cruelly ripped from her by war yet again, she felt her heartbreak at the thought of it being destroyed by the Dragon Queen’s dragons or the Night King’s. The possibility was high and Sansa hated every moment of it.

Time on the boat seemed warped, she didn’t know how long she cried, but when she found the strength to look around her, no one was looking. That both irked and relieved Sansa. Two thoughts enter her mind: how dare they not aide I and no one should see me this weak. Sansa knew she was supposed to be leading these people. She knew Jon and his Queen were likely fighting for her home- No. They were fighting a war at her home. They surrounded it with wildfire and were likely going to abandon it.

Her heart was racing as she thought about the dragons. Fear shivered into every bone in her body. On the third night of their voyage, everyone had been awoken by the sounds of terrifying shrieking. The same kind the Dragon Queen’s let out when they first arrived at Winterfell. These were louder. Everyone could even hear their wings move against the air. Sansa remembered the slight reflection the fire from their ships gave off of their scales. No one could count how many there had been, their cries lasted all of three minutes before they were left to silence. Who’s ever those dragons belonged to; it wasn’t Daenerys Targaryen. Sansa feared they belonged to no one at all and were just roaming the seas.

* * *

The day had come. That morning, every soldier and person at Winterfell could feel it. Today would be the beginning of what could be a long war. If what the Red Priests and Priestesses claimed was indeed true, the Great War could potentially last twice as long as the War of the Five King’s if their stand at Winterfell wasn’t strong. Even Bran could give them no confirmation. Only repeating that he could not give much else away or it wouldn’t happen at all.

The air was chilled to the point that every light and shallow breath could be seen. The day brought no sun, the stony grey clouds overcast the skies completely. Daenerys and Jon had been with the dragons all morning. The armor on the dragons, the King, and the Queen was thick. The armor had taken the time to adjust to, but even Daenerys had been able to train well in the freshly made armor for days now. Jon and Arya hadn’t gone easy on her, neither had her Dothraki or Unsullied. The Queen carried a dragonglass sword and dagger at her belt. The King had Longclaw and a dragonglass on his. Needle had been loaned to Sansa for safekeeping, Arya trusted her sister wouldn’t lose it. She even doubted her sister would need to use the blade.

A slight change in plans had already been made. Arya would get her childhood wish. Viserion had taken a neutral liking to Arya and Daenerys worried for her son, Rhaegal had bonded to Jon. The reason for the bond between her son and Jon was lost on Daenerys. Rhaegal flew better, more controlled, and aware than before. Viserion had taken a few days to warm up to Jon’s sister and Daenerys was convinced it was due to the compliments Arya gave him that he finally lowered his wing to her.

Arya had loved flying on Viserion’s back, as she knew to call him by his name. She refused to call him anything else. She remembered how Nymeria wouldn’t respond to anything other than her name. Not girl. Not dog. Not wolf. The dragons were the same. She saw the intelligence in their eyes, as well as judgment. Fear did not come to her from being under the three dragon’s gazes. Arya feared nothing but the potential loss of her family. She looked forward to seeing this new face of death, the Night King. It had taken days of wearing Jon’s patience for him to finally give details on the Ice King. The details of his commanders. They had all they needed to know of the wights. No one was sure anything less than Valyrian Steel would kill the White Walkers. No one knew what would kill the Night King. They only knew that killing any White Walkers they came across would give the living better numbers than the dead.

Daenerys’ Dothraki had trained and practiced with their new weapons constantly, her Unsullied trained with throwing daggers and their bladed staffs. Jon tore into his Northern men’s arses. He came at his men like a crazed man, flailing about and fighting with no style. The men were afraid but had watched Jon, no matter the fool he looked moving like that, when their King stated that a fleshy skeleton or corpse would move like that, their humorous eyes dulled. 

Their traps were laid out. Their men were rested and nervous. Ready and adrenaline-pumping heavy. As the sky began to dim further, they knew, the Night King wasn’t going to wait for the dark of night, he was bringing the night to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some playing with time, but the battle is coming next. 
> 
> I have my new laptop and am glad to be writing comfortably again. 2020 has been kicking a lot of people's ass this year and I hope it's finally getting better. 
> 
> This update is short, and I apologize for that, but I was eager to put this out for all of you who have been waiting so long.


	12. Who They Saved and Who They Lost (Part 2 of 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins, but emotions run and words are exchanged.
> 
> Even more surprises ahead that hint at something I said from the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being 13 pages on MS Word and while I was ready to go further, I don't want to let you guys wait much longer.
> 
> If there are errors, I will be able to fix them soon. I was eager to post this.

**_Who They Saved and Who They Lost (Part 2 of 5)_ **

The sun was supposed to be high in the sky. The weather was supposed to be warmer. The lives of the living were supposed to be moving past the damages of six years of war. None of those things existed in this moment. No joy. No happiness. In this moment, the dead had filled the forests north of Winterfell. The clouds in the sky still gave them some light. The blue eyes glimmered from the great distance, appearing to be a sheet of glowing ice on the horizon. The armies in Winterfell all prayed to their gods. They prayed for the light of day. They prayed for their lives. They prayed for strength and the safety of their families.

The Dothraki all took turns and stared from the walls of Winterfell, gazing at the blue eyes in the distance. Magic was always dark and forbidden in their culture, but because of their Khaleesi, they knew magic had its advantages. The Dothraki all now believed that their Khaleesi was a Goddess, the Red Priests and Priestesses were walking flames like their Queen. Seeing the blue eyes in the horizon caused no fear in the Dothraki, it would be a great battle, a great fight, and the most important fight of their lives.

The Northern men all followed suit, gazing at the distance, solidifying themselves. Hardly any wanted to flee from the sight before them. All were scared, few were excited, less were apprehensive. They all knew that soon, those blue eyes in the distance would be within arm’s reach. They all knew that any animosity against the Dragon Queen, her armies, and advisors truly mattered not. Jon Snow had been right. Their King had been right. In all their hearts, the Northern men knew they had chosen their King correctly. They only wished they had more time and more forces.

The followers of R’Hollor all watched the forests from the flames. Their eyes glued to each fire burning within Winterfell’s walls. The ruby that lay on each priest and priestess’s neck glowed a hue so red so deep. For a select few, the red was like blood. Inside their ruby, something moved and stirred. These select knew, it was time to approach Daenerys Targaryen. It was time.

Bran sat in the Godswood with forty men and women surrounding the Heart tree. Ten Dothraki, ten Unsullied, and twenty northern fighters. Several Red Priests and Priestess’s stayed within the shadows of the trees of the small sanctuary. All that fighters were practicing with each other, all counting their arrows, daggers, and spears. Two of the northern fighters carried Valyrian steel swords. Each person carried three weapons, including the archers. Throwing daggers made from dragonglass, dragonglass swords, and every arrow tip was made from dragonglass as well. The Red worshippers all stared at the flames, saying nothing in the common tongue, only Valyrian.

Bran, sitting still next to the Heart tree’s face, had his head tilted back, his eyes completely white. Above, ravens flew high above Winterfell. From above, the fields surrounding his home looked like a maze. Looking further, Bran saw the vast amount of the dead. Their blue eyes stared straight at his home. The White Walkers stood still as statues, their eyes scanning the fields. They didn’t seem to pause at the holes at the ground. No, they were searching. Paying no attention to the catapults or the men at the walls of Winterfell. When their eyes started searching the skies it was then that Bran realized, the White Walkers and the Night King wanted one thing. Maybe three to be precise. Coming out of the ravens, Bran turned to Theon and told him,

“They want the dragons.”

Daenerys and Jon stood with Arya near the dragons at the southern gate when Theon came racing towards them and the dragons without fear. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion regarded the man with little interest, but they were very attentive with their ears. Huffing, Theon gave the message Bran told them,

“The White Walkers and the Night King want the dragons. Despite their ice dragons, they want to break the will of fire-made-flesh dragons, break the greatest connection Daenerys has to R’Hollor.”

The three sons of Daenerys all grew agitated. They understood the words. They remembered what almost occurred north of the Wall. Viserion was most agitated, the gentlest of the three. He didn’t like being attacked by spears. The armor the dragons wore had taken time to get used to, but all three had accepted it. The Red God worshippers had helped forge their armor. All three dragons had matured since coming to Westeros. Their sizes nearly doubled, and they knew that by being direct targets of the ice beings who threw sharp weapons at them, they had to be attentive. The three brothers knew, they would reign fire upon this army that dared try to harm their mother and themselves. The three brothers knew to stay close to each other and away from the one who could throw and harm them.

The wings of the dragons were covered in light chainmail. Open enough to not hinder their flight. Their bodies covered in a mix of durable steel plates and thicker chainmail. Their vital organs were covered in steel. Their necks were the least covered, decorated in vertical stripes of chainmail so their frills could move with ease. On the backs of the dragons were saddles with a fastening belt to hold their rider on their backs securely. Despite Arya’s small stature and lack of Targaryen blood, she was the only one between Daenerys, Jon, and herself who could stand on a dragon’s back while in flight without issue. Jon was too clumsy to try and Rhaegal didn’t like such a maneuver. Daenerys only felt comfortable sitting on her son’s back but was able to stand a few times. 

All three of the dragon riders wore armor under their furs. No capes. Thick coats that left their necks slightly exposed so that they could easily turn their heads without fur blocking their vision. It had taken time for Daenerys to adjust to the added weight of armor. It had taken less time for Arya to adjust. There was no ease in how anyone was trained at Winterfell. They had even managed to train some of the women and children before they had departed for Dragonstone. But then Daenerys wondered, her _connection to R’Hollor…_ she was not sure what that could mean. The answer came to her.

Behind Theon, twelve hooded Red God worshippers emerged from the castle walls. Arya’s hand immediately went to her dagger, Jon followed suit. Only Daenerys seemed to have trust in the ones in Red. Theon turned and rushed back into the castle walls, to his station. He had to stay focused. The men and women of R’Hollor mostly kept their hoods up. Only the leaders tended to show their faces. These priests and priestesses had not shown themselves. They approached at a non-threatening pace. None carries weapons. That didn’t matter to Arya, it didn’t matter to Jon. They knew one Red Priestess who sacrificed a child. That was enough to give the followers of R’Hollor a bad taste in their mouths. The twelve slowed to a stop a few feet in front of Daenerys.

A moment of silence passed. Daenerys, waiting for an introduction. Arya and Jon waiting for a possible attack. Instead, the twelve all raised their arms to lower their hoods. Daenerys’ heart leapt and she could not breathe for several moments. When she took a breath, it came out jagged. Her eyes wouldn’t dare deceive her. The twelve in front of her all had silver or platinum blonde hair. Some were pale skinned like her, some were dark skinned, but all the same, their hair was like hers. Some of their eyes were purple. Some were blood red. Who are they? One stepped forward and spoke in such fluent and fast Valyrian that Daenerys almost swooned at the melodic tones their voice carried,

“Daenerys Targaryen, blood of Old Valyria, you are not the last blood of Old Valyria. I am Nelaemera Daltagar. One of the thirty-six survivors of the Doom of Valyria. Only twelve of us have come to present ourselves to you. All of us are your cousins. All of us shared a familial marriage or blood with the Targaryen line. My house was one of the Hundred.”

The woman was of dark skin, she had deep purple eyes that made Daenerys think she was looking into gemstones. Her hair was platinum blonde. Yet, despite claiming to be centuries old, the woman looked no older than twenty-five. Beside her, a man spoke,

“I am Vaevar Lengyreon. Also, a survivor of the Doom of Valyria. You and I share blood, my mother was a Targaryen. She was once a sister wife to her oldest brother some decades before the Doom, but after her first husband’s death, she married my father and had my sisters and myself. I was the only one to survive the Doom in my household.”

One by one, they introduced themselves to Daenerys. When Jon and Arya had their patience worn thin, Jon stepped beside Daenerys. The tears in her eyes, he mistook for them saying hurtful things, he mistook them for demanding sacrifices. Before he could get any accusation out of his mouth, one Red Priestess with red eyes turned to him and spoke in common tongue,

“You share our blood as well.”

Arya stepped beside her brother, ready to slit the throat of the priestess for such an accusation and lie. The priestess spoke again,

“Your hair is dark; your eyes are grey with flecks of something else if you look long enough. There is fire in your blood, and it has run hot since your return from death. I know Valyrian blood. Under the mask of a Stark wolf is a dragon.”

A priest nodded beside her,

“Yes, I see it too. His fire gets brighter. It is why the Night King won’t fight him. The Night King wants the dragons gone first before spilling our blood.”

The man turned to Daenerys,

“You though. You birthed these dragons. His Queen has birthed all she can. He wants another wife.”

Ice froze Arya and Jon, their ears burned in disbelief. Daenerys rocked back and forth, almost as if she would fall. Shaking her head, her fire found its voice,

“Speak plainly. What do you speak of? Beyond the wall, I saw all the Night King’s forces. I saw his commanders. There was no womanly figure of ice.”

The priest named Aeragon Raenaelor sighed,

“He keeps her deep in his fortress. The last priest that tried to find her died just so we could get a glimpse of where she was. She is ice made flesh, but before…. her flesh was made of fire.”

The implication was clear. Daenerys blanched and turned to Jon. Never. Jon had never seen a woman of ice. He had never been close enough to the Land of Always winter to even think there could be more than the Night King. The priest continued,

“Before she was his Night Queen, she was Blood of Old Valyria. She was our blood, Daenerys. She and a distant ancestor of ours had married and decided to aid the First Men of Westeros. A costly mistake. Only her husband of children they’d had in Westeros returned some years later. Only two years passed before our ancestors felt the air was less hot. Even with the volcanoes Old Valyria stood, the air was not as hot. Her name was Vyselys Daertaris. Her husband was a Targaryen. Their children were Targaryen’s. He had dreams, as did her children. Their mother calling out for them. Beckoning their return to Westeros.

A decade passed before one of her children, now a young man with a wife, ventured to Westeros. Despite his sister’s warning that something was not right with their mother in their dreams, he settled here in Westeros. Far south, in what is now Dorne. For a few years, the man and his wife settled, had many children and built their house. House Martell. Their children carried only purple eyes, the only sign they were of Targaryen blood. Their features and bodies were like their mother’s side. Their skills in weaponry were of Old Valyria. Now very grown. The man knew his family was safe, they were as south in the Westeros continent as they could be. Their palaces were built. Their standing was strong among the people, all but King and Queen in name.

With his oldest child almost grown, he sought his mother. She still called to him. His wife pleaded for him not to go. She had long since outgrown her desire for adventure when they’d had their children. He didn’t listen. Took a good sum of money to journey north. Rode out each horse till it died before getting another. The First Men were establishing their noble houses and had already forgotten when his parents came to aide them. None remembered him from his youth. It was when he arrived in what is now the North that his dreams became stronger. It was then that he started to see what his sisters had. His mother’s skin was now blue. He assumed she was freezing, his mind already in denial.

The first of the Starks had built their first castle called Winterfell in what is now White Harbor. It was there that he met Bran the Builder. A young man then. Nearly half the age of the Targaryen son. Together, they gathered and armed men with steel swords and daggers and went on an adventure. The Targaryen son did not know that his wife had followed him. No, his dreams kept him from seeing his wife. The man and his company ventured to the Land of Always winter. It had taken a year to get there. Along the way, they had encountered the dead. Only fire killed them. Their swords shattered when they encountered the White Walkers. By time they found the ice castle of the Night King, their company was half of what they came with. But the man saw his mother and his Valyrian steel sword, the only Valyrian steel sword in Westeros at the time, cut down dozens of White Walkers just to get to his mother.

When he got to her, she was almost unrecognizable. Her skin was like carved ice. Her once purple eyes were flecked with ice blue. Hardly anything about her seemed human anymore. But she turned to him and opened her arms out to her son. She beckoned him and tried to speak. What was supposed to be Valyrian came out as melodic ice cracking. The beckoning broke and he ran back to his friends and far from his mother. The Night king took advantage of her heartbreak of her son running from her and she screamed her last human scream.”

Arya’s hand had long since left the hilt of her dagger. She was focused on finding a lie in his words. Each one was truthful. Jon’s brows scrunched downwards,

“Does this lead to the tale of the man and his wife who killed the Night King?”

His tone was shaky but intrigued. All twelve of the Red followers nodded. Daegel Daltalos and his brother Daegon Daltalos continued the tale,

“Vyselys lost the remainder of her humanity then. Her care for her human children was gone. Her daughters had refused her in their dream’s years before, but it was her son leaving her, in her face, that she detached from us. She detached from being Blood of Old Valyria. Her fire made flesh was now ice. Her purple eyes turned completely blue. Her King didn’t have to hold back any longer. The commanders he had and the dead they had already risen gave chase to the son and his company.”

“They drew close to where the wall now stands when the son ran into his wife. She’d had her own dreams. She knew since he left, the only outcome his adventure would cost. The son did not know this. Bran Stark had ridden further ahead, and the Wall was being commissioned to be built. Everyone north of the Wall be damned. Who are now Wildlings today are what remains of the true First Men who didn’t settle into castles. For a time, the son and his wife reconciled. She knew what was to come. He did not. Only a week passed before the Night King found them and attacked. Only a week passed before her sacrifice. The son had no hand in it as the romanticized version of the story says. No. She stepped between her dying husband, about to be struck by the Night King. She accepted his blade in her heart and spoke a spell of her own creation. A spell of premonition. Her blood soaked his ice sword and when he pulled his blade from her body, her husband, in his dragon rage, took his sword from the Night King’s hands and plunged it into the ice man’s own heart. The blood of his wife entering the creature’s heart and countering his own magic. His ice made flesh turned human. He was a First Man. A man that one of the son’s company recognized. The Night King had been Bran Stark’s uncle. Underneath the ice, he was unrecognizable.”

Jon froze yet again. Flashes of his Uncle Benjen saving him from the lake and sacrificing himself. Uncle Benjen looking half frozen. The Red God worshippers glanced at Jon,

“Your uncle Benjen is dead, _he_ won’t be the next Night King.”

Arya’s head whipped to the Red Priestess who spoke,

“The _next_ Night King?”

They all nodded,

“You see-”

“With the Night King disposed of with the blood of the living-”

“There had to be a new Night King-”

“One Vyselys birthed-”

“Fathered by the Night King since-”

“Her husband had long moved on-”

“A baby born, half ice-”

“Half flesh-”

“Until his mother turned to ice-”

“Haven’t you ever wondered what happened”

“To Craster’s sons? Or why there was a deal made with Craster and the Others?”

Flashes of memories long forgotten, entered Jon’s vision and he choked on the air,

“Craster’s sons…. Gilly’s brothers’…. They are his White Walkers?”

All twelve nodded. Daenerys spoke softly, as she was still reeling from the information she was just given,

“Why?”

Arya, quickly thought and sharply directed her words to the twelve,

“The Night Queen has a desire to turn all fire made flesh to ice, not the Night King. The Night King Jon knows is her son with the first Night King.”

All twelve nodded, but Raeneselle Celdaerys stepped forward,

“Yes, this is true. But the first Night King was a First Man. Even as a newly turned Night King obeying the Children of the Forest’s wish to wipe Westeros of his kind, he fell for a woman that wasn’t his. He stole her. His commanders attacked Vyselys’ husband, driving him and her children away but not killing them. This was a memory none of her human children kept trauma does that.

When the son heard his mother scream as he fled when he first saw her, he remembered. His mother was a key. A key to having the dead and ice spread further than Westeros. When she turned to complete ice, the original ambition of the Children of the Forest was no longer contained. She wanted every life, light, and fire extinguished. This is what she instructed her son. This is how she made the ice dragons. Once dragon eggs. She froze them and gave them life. The first Mother of Dragons.”

Another Red priest came forward,

“You kill this Night King; it won’t be easy for another to take his place. It will be his mother, the Night Queen, who will avenge him.”

Daenerys was shaking with anger she didn’t quite understand,

“Why now? We have been here for weeks! We could have thought of a plan! You are Blood of my Blood. That is plain to see. Surely, there must be more to this than just sharing stories with us!”

Her breathing was ragged, and she turned from the Red God worshippers, her cousins. Her dragons all cooing to calm their mother. Arya glanced between Daenerys, her brother, and the R’Hollor followers,

“Neither Daenerys or my brother are dying to kill this Night King. They need to lead us! If you came here to give Daenerys some sort of closure so she could follow in Nissa Nissa’s footsteps-”

“We don’t.”

“And he isn’t your brother.”

Arya’s hand found her dagger instantly and she began to move to slit throats when the Red Priestess continued,

“Jon Snow is your cousin by blood. Your brother by your heart. His blood carries both Stark and Targaryen lineage. This, I can prove.”

From the rear of the twelve Red God worshippers, two more emerged. The robes these two wore were black. Their faces hidden under the shadow of their hoods, but platinum blonde hair flowed from one hood and deep brown hair from the other. Upon reaching the front of their group, the two hesitantly reached for their hoods and pulled them back. The air went still around them. Even the dragons looked on at the scene in a confused manner.

To Arya, it was like she was seeing a future version of herself. The woman had all the telltale Stark features. Her eyes weren’t trained to hide her emotions like the rest of the Red God followers. Hers were continuously glancing from Arya, Daenerys, to Jon.

To Daenerys, it was like seeing a glorified version of Viserys. His face was more handsome, despite the scar that marred half of his face. His long blonde hair was like Viserys’. This man was older though. His eyes held a softness that Viserys never gave her. His eyes were pleading and apologetic. His face showed remorse as he glanced between Jon and Daenerys.

The Queen, the Khalessi, the Mother of Dragons staggered where she stood and turned away once more. Tears threatened to emerge and she tried to steel herself. Until moments ago, she was the last dragon, the last blood of Old Valyria. For years, she was alone. For years, they hadn’t come to her. For years, they weren’t with her. For years. For years….

“For years….”

She whispered, but everyone heard. Rhaegar dropped his head in shame. Lyanna paled and looked down to the snow at her feet. Daenerys turned back with hurt in her eyes, though she had schooled her face,

“For years, I was alone. For years I suffered Viserys’ abuse. For years, I needed guidance and none of you were there for me. I became a Khalessi on my own. I became a Queen on my own. I suffered greatly my entire life for simply being the last Targaryen. Hunted! Beaten! Raped! Where were all of you?!

You come to me moments before the Great War… I needed you long before today…”

Jon reaches out to Daenerys before he realizes who she is. Who she is to him. Dread fills his heart as well as shame. Jon fell in love with a strong woman who earned his trust and led with strength, now he wonders if he fell for her because of her blood instead. His attraction to her had been immediate. Jon told himself that their relationship had been built for months, that there was no reason for him to be drawn to her by blood. But the thought entered his mind, _Targaryen’s marry Targaryen’s_. The man who the R’Hollor followers claimed was his real father spoke lowly,

“It was not our intention to leave you alone, sister.”

Dany flinched at hearing his voice, it was like Viserys’ but sweeter. Rhaegar noticed and kept his gaze downward,

“I did not know. I swear it-”

Daenerys erupted,

“Like you swore to Elia Martell and your children to keep them safe? Like you swore faithfulness to your wife? I have had many times alone with the Sand Snakes and particularly Ellaria Sand. You broke more than oaths when you took Lyanna Stark, you broke your wife’s heart. I take your oaths and swearing’s very lightly, brother.”

She spat out the name of his relation to her with disgust. All her life was a direct result of his actions.

“You broke our family. Viserys and I lived in the streets of Bravos for years. We were beggars. Assassins always around one corner or another. Assassins came for my first son and he never got to live! You damned our family! You damned our mother to die at her birthing bed in a rush to deliver me before the assassins burst through the doors of Dragonstone! You killed her! You killed our father! You killed Viserys! You nearly killed me, several times over!”

Silence followed as Daenerys heaved heavily to catch her breath. Drogon and her sons all lowly growled at the audience. A warning. Rhaegar’s heart completely dropped. Glad as he was that his sister had three loyal dragons, he held out hope that he could bond with one of them. Lyanna was the first to find her words,

“There is no excuse for us letting the war break out as it did. I was young, a girl of four and ten and I fell in love with Rhaegar. We didn’t-”

Lyanna caught the eye of the girl who looked much like her and stopped at the absolute hatred in her eyes. Arya stepped forward and Lyanna knew, her niece shared similarities with her, but her niece was a true killer. Her niece sized up her aunt and did not seem pleased,

“I was only a girl of nine when my father was beheaded in front of my eyes. I was only nine when I pretended to be a boy on the King’s Road so I could try to come home to Winterfell. It took ten years before I was able to return. How long did it take you?”

The question did not need and answer, Arya continued,

“Father rarely spoke of you. But I know now why he looked at me so sadly at times. Wolfsblood runs high in my veins. I told my father while we in King’s Landing that I was not suited for marriage, that such a duty was not who I am. I expected him to turn into my mother for a moment and barrage me for not being a lady as every other girl. I thought he would say it was my duty once more. But when I looked into his eyes and he smiled down at me… I know he was glad that I was less like you, dear aunt.”

Daenerys looked at Arya in interest. She had not known the girl had no interest in marrying at all. Arya did not blink as she continued,

“Father didn’t even speak of uncle Brandon. Mother and Father named Bran after him. Mother told me she had cared deeply for her first betrothed. She told me that not all arranged marriages start with love, it was something built towards. When I was little, love disgusted me, but that did not stop a girl of nine from being able to tell that my parents had their children’s best interests at heart.

Sansa used to be a helpless romantic. She couldn’t wait to marry. I am sure you saw her around before she departed. Do you think she has anymore romantic notions? My sister was captive in King’s Landing for nearly eight years. Our brother and mother tried to save her and died. Jon and Sansa thought I was dead for years.

Sansa was only eleven when the war started. Her dreams of songs and princes was shattered. I was nine and knew better than she. You were four and ten, the age you were when you and Rhaegar broke this country apart has nothing to do with anything. You could have been four and twenty, the war would still have broken out because you had been promised to another and you still gave no word of why. You let the country think the worst and the worst happened to Westeros.

I have been to Braavos. They have many plays on our history. Our wars are a joke to them, for it happened far away and did not affect their lives, money, or status. Sansa, painted the helpless victim, they don’t show the beatings she had in front of court each time my brother won a battle. A pawn to the King, his mother, and Littlefinger. Tyrion painted as the wicked imp who was behind killing Jeoffrey.

Do you know how you are painted? Lyanna and Rhaegar? How Elia and her children are painted?”

Tears swam in Lyanna’s eyes and Arya felt glad that there was a greater difference between the two of them. Rhaegar hung in her words and looked ashamed. Arya continued,

“Street plays do not dive deep into your tales, but the greater theaters do. You are painted as either a child lover or oath breaker and rapist Rhaegar. Lyanna is painted one of two ways: the innocent stolen princess of the North or the whore wild girl who stole a husband from his dutiful wife and young children. Elia painted as the shunned and heartbroken princess. The audience was always brought to tears by scenes of Elia and the runover of her children and herself being brutally murdered.”

Rhaegar dared to speak, the Targaryen cousins watching the spectacle before them with interest,

“Not a day goes by that I don’t feel guilt for Elia and the children-”

Daenerys snapped at her brother,

“Your wife! Call her what she was to you! Your children! Your blood. My blood. Our blood.

Are you so ashamed that you cannot call them yours?”

A shudder went through Rhaegar’s body as he gently let out the final secret that would have his sister erupt upon him further,

“We married.”

Confusion set into his sisters’ eyes before she realized. Jon felt ready to vomit. His mind finally caught up to the conversation. His stomach full of disgust. Before Daenerys could yell at her brother, Jon gripped the pummel of his sword and spoke harshly at the woman who was his mother,

“You are… disgusting.”

Instantly, Lyanna recoiled as if she’d been slapped. Rhaegar looked further broken. Jon continued,

“You broke your betrothal for a man already married with children! There is no honor or romance in the act! Only selfishness! No honor! For what? What reason did you have to think yourself above Elia, the children she shared with Rhaegar? For what reason did you truly let the real bleed thousands of lives?”

It was Rhaegar who answered,

“We did fall in love, but-”

Arya was the one to cut the man off,

“Father used to say, anything before the word ‘but’ is horseshit. I can tell when you lie. Choose your words carefully, they may be the last you share with us before the battle begins.”

Jon’s heart raced. The dead were in their forests and now was not the time for this revelation. Any moment they could attack. Clearing the pounding of his heart from his head, Jon could hear the men scrambling into position in the tiers. Men pouring out from the Northern and East Gate to work their way around the circles that enclosed Winterfell. Arya was right, this conversation needed to end. Rhaegar continued,

“I was born during the Tragedy of Summerhall. As countless of our relatives burned as wildfire spread through the castle. I was born amongst salt and smoke. My life growing up had been plagued by dreams of ice, blue eyes like those in the forests here, and a wolf. I dreamed and I dreamed, and I was plagued by the ghosts of Summerhall. Something was coming and I did not know what. I knew prophecies were dangerous. But one made sense and was forever ingrained into my mind. The prophecy of the Prince Who Was Promised…”

Jon went pale. Dany looked furious. Arya detected no lies. He continued,

“For years, I thought I was the one promised. The signs were there. A false spring. The birth of Aegon with Elia. The birth of Rhaenys. And then, Elia having more children would kill her. Perhaps if I had given it more time. I was twenty years plus too early in my assumptions. But the reports from Maester Aemon gave me proof that the dead and Others were on the move. But my father, my suspicious father, was King and did not care about the Wall or what lay past it.

Harrenhall was supposed to be a Great Council called. Varys betrayed me to my father.”

Daenerys stilled and made sure to note this remark for later. If they lived past this battle.

“Aerys no longer truly trusted anyone. He came to the tourney. I saw Lyanna defending a boy who had recently risen to be head of his house. She was fierce and lovely. She was young though. I had been dreaming of wolves and a warrior Queen. After I found her a few days later, hastily removing the armor of the Knight of the Laughing Tree from her body, I knew I had found my second queen.”

Lyanna looked straight at her son. Jon did not like where this was going. Dany was calming and had settled into an emotionless mask. Arya detected no lies yet.

“The last day of the jousting, I won and crowned Lyanna for her warrior behavior and heart. My father still had wanted the Knight of the Laughing Tree found. Lyanna and I corresponded for weeks after the tourney. Our love growing deep, and I tried to stay myself. Elia did want to try for a third child. If I had the patience though… my dreams only worsened. Lyanna was in danger. One of my guards was overheard speaking of I finding Lyanna in the Knight’s armor. Varys reported to my father. My father ordered her to be arrested. He made sure to only send out his loyal guards. It was a race to reach Lyanna first. Our two parties met and my guards and I laid waste to Aerys’ men. We ran.

Following the skirmish, our blood hot, Lyanna and I lay under the stars and we travelled to the Isle of Faces and married under the Old Gods. It was brash. My guards said so. I-we did not heed their advice. We wanted just some time alone together. Some peace to relish in our love…. It was time we should not have taken. By time we settled in the Tower of Joy in Dorne, Lyanna was with child and her Father and Brother were dead.”

Daenerys had a dangerous glint in her eyes,

“You took your new bride to the lands of your only legitimate wife’s land? No shame. No thought for your people, your followers, your loyalists. You abandoned your wife to our cruel father. You abandoned our mother! I was conceived while you were gone! Our mother was raped while you were gone. Jaime Lannister stood by our mother’s door as our father raped our mother after hearing the news that you stole a woman.

I hate you. Viserys praised you. Called you our warrior brother. Our brave brother that rebels wanted dead simply because of who our family was. A lie. Viserys only told me lies about our father and family. For years I believed them. Because of his lies I named my first son after you. Rhaego, he never go to breathe a breath of air! I name Rhaegal after you!”

Jon, moving past the revelation of their true relationship for a moment, gave a comforting hand to Dany’s arm. Rhaegar swallowed and began to sweat. He knew what he was about to say would get him more hatred from his blood,

“I did fall at the Trident. Robert did not bash my skull in with his hammer. I was dead nonetheless. Until I wasn’t. I awoke to a Red Priest above me and I learned what I missed. Our families armies were defeated. If I had come forward, maybe our family would have prevailed, maybe. I was tired of fighting though. There was too much distance to catch up to Robert and his. I later found out that Tywin had turned on our family. He had waited to see who would emerge victorious at the Trident. Cersei… She wanted to be queen long before I ever married. I imagine that was the deal between Robert and Tywin. Take Cersei as Queen and he would get them inside the city.”

Daenerys’ eyes were glassy and her voice like steel,

“Yes, your will to fight was gone… and you forgot about _them_ … didn’t you?”

Rhaegar’s head snapped up and he stammered for words. His eyes wide. Jon glowered at the man responsible for his existence, shammed that this is likely what he sounds like when he is a fool. Arya stepped close to the once prince,

“Don’t lie.”

Her arms behind her back and poised. Her expression as if she were playing a game. Rhaegar sweat heavily now. Lyanna was scared of her own niece. Arya’s gaze cut to her aunt, as if knowing she was on the woman’s mind,

“We share blood, but you are no aunt of mine. I do not know you. I do not like you. I do not respect you. Your only saving grace is that you gave birth to my favorite brother.”

Rhaegar sighed and finally nodded to Daenerys’ question. Both Jon and Dany stepped forward, but Jon’s reach was further than hers. Rhaegar was shocked to find his sons fist in his face. He was more shocked at the force, he heard something snap, his nose. Dany saw Jon’s action and immediately moved towards Lyanna but stopped herself.

“I will save this anger for the dead. But make no mistake, _brother_ , those who abandon and betray those I care for and myself, are dead to me.”

The twelve pulled Lyanna and Rhaegar back so they could have more words with the three dragon riders. All showed little to no reaction to the words or actions they witnessed.

“Alas, heavily misguided, Rhaegar was correct that the dead were coming. There were many paths to how Jon could have been born. Many with less blood. Many with more.”

“We do not believe he is the Prince or Princess that is Promised. Melisandre, also misguided, only knew it was someone who carried Targaryen blood. It was when she met you that you fell into her thoughts. She knew you had a hand to play. When she found that Daenerys was coming to Westeros, she knew that Daenerys did as well.”

“The majority of all R’Hollor’s followers have believed it to be Queen Daenerys for years. None thought it could be Viserys. None thought it could be Rhaegar but himself. Only Melisandre thought to look at the distant relations of the Targaryens. Aegon and Rhaenys would have been likely candidates had they lived.”

“Why we are hear though, my Queen, is not to give you grief. You are great. You have done great things.”

“You are the first to bring dragons our from their stone eggs. They have grown to a considerable size.”

“Although they are still young and small.”

Daenerys’ eyes cut to Maelesa Melgaeron,

“Small?”

All twelve smiled,

“We were alive in the greatness of Old Valyria, my Queen. Our dragons dwarf yours by many sizes.”

All hearts stopped for a moment. Even Rhaegar’s pain in his face stopped. In the distance, the sounds of winds grew. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserys all had their eyes glued to the south for a while now. Slowly, the humans below them turned as well. From the clouded grey skies, shadows began to show bits of vibrant colors. As the shadows grew closer, it became dauntingly clear to Daenerys, her dragons were indeed small. Suddenly, seven dropped from the sky above, spiraling and glittering in armor that did not look like normal steel. A moment passed before five followed the seven, their colors swirling and mixing. Then all together, twelve more dropped from the clouds. The air growing warmer as the dragons approached. Their dives ended in a spectacular show of narrowly avoiding the ground. Slowing their speeds, they all dwarfed Winterfell in size. The twelve gazed at their dragons and seemed to look them in their eyes, communicating something. The twelve all walked towards their dragons hovering low on the ground but not landing. They turned to Daenerys, Jon, and Arya,

“When this battle is over, we will show you some tricks.”

For centuries, the twelve knew their purpose. Today they would begin their true aid to the Queen, their kin, their blood. Each reached to the clasp of their hoods and undid them. Each revealing the armor beneath, unseen and unalike any made today. Daenerys knew the era of Dragons was not at an end and her reign was just beginning.

**_BBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRR_ **

**_BBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRR_ **

**_BBBUUUUUUUUURRRRRRR_ **

The horns blared. The dead were moving. Arya was quickest to get onto Viserys, Dany the second-fastest, followed by Jon. Lyanna and Rhaegar merely watched as they retreated into the castle with their hoods pulled over their heads once more. Their part to play was known to them as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't mentioned certain characters in quite a while, it was intentional. Some names were from a name generator, no gonna lie, making Valyrian names without reusing ones from the books are hard. I wanted to give them their own identities. Renaming character ___ the second/third/ so on is tiring. 
> 
> I hope you liked this and leave a comment.


	13. Who They Saved and Who They Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle begins. The Great War's first battle commences.  
>  Part 3 of 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!!
> 
> This isn't going to go how you think it will.

**_Who They Saved and Who They Lost (Part 3 of 5)_ **

The air grew colder, the brisk chill in the air nipping at every exposed face. The Unsullied didn’t flinch at the cold. The Dothraki kept shifting their horses to keep their hot blood flowing strong. There was still light in the sky. The grey clouds grew darker by the minute. Winds blew from the north. Directly into the eyes of the waiting army. The Northerners, Unsullied, Dornish, Dothraki, and Reach armies alike were blinking rapidly to keep their eyes from drying with the wind.

Above, the Great Dragons and Daenerys’ children circled and hovered high above Winterfell. The Old Blood of Valyria calling out actions to Daenerys, Jon, and Arya. It had been a blow to Daenerys that her children were not as big as she likened. It was a blow to Jon that without these bigger dragons and their riders, their upper hand on the dead was lost. It was a change to their plan that made everyone a bit unsure. None of the men on the ground had been briefed, but those standing post at the South Gate and the southern tiers had seen that the dragons had come to R’Hollor followers.

Daenerys, Jon, and Arya were to focus their dragons on the army of the dead and not getting shot out of the sky. As all the dragon riders maneuvered and hovered in the air, Daenerys suddenly wished her words to them had been more than anger. She hoped, she swore that after this battle, she would get to know them. Daenerys Stormborn swore to herself that she would embrace her Old Blood relatives. The Dragon Queen also promised to herself to talk to Jon.

Movement caught her eyes. Below, looking like a nest of ants, the dead slowly began to rush towards the castle. A sizable number broke from the trees, then none at all. Not all at once. She guessed it was approximately twenty or thirty thousand. Dismay gripped her heart. This was something they had not thought of. Suddenly, words Tormund had said weeks ago echoed in her mind,

_“They use style. Style I’ve seen some of you lads’ use. But they send the dead first to lessen your forces, then they bring you back and you fight for them.”_

Jon’s eyes and Arya’s widened as they realized it too. The dead were coming in waves. Not all at once. Dany’s heart began to pound in her ears. This wasn’t going to go as planned like they thought. _Shit_. Arya looked worriedly down below. Another realization setting in,

“They don’t know it’s not all of them coming!”

Frantically, Arya looked around until she heard a _“CAW.”_ To her right, a raven was also hovering in the sky. The winds grew faster, and the dead were nearing halfway through the field towards the trenches.

“Quickly, Bran! They don’t know!”

With that, the raven shot away from Arya and down to the Weirwood tree. The wind began to howl, and snow began to lick at her exposed face like pine needles, none of the icy substance melting at instantly touching her skin, it stuck for a moment before her body could melt it. With the wind, Arya suspected she heard another sound. She turned her gaze higher in the sky above her. The bigger dragons all looked hostile now. Their heads snapping in every direction, even in the clouds themselves. Feeling a rumble under her, Arya looked down in time to see something flying at her. For all her training, this was the first time in a long time that she panicked. Viserion was under control of himself though and he banked sharply to his right, where the raven had been. Focusing her attention on the ground, Arya had to resist the urge to look up once more as a loud booming erupted followed by a series of flashes. Like lightning. The dead were coming in waves. The White Walkers were not going to wait to attack them. Arya couldn’t help but think of the warriors down below. They really weren’t prepared for this. None of us were.

* * *

* * *

On the ground, half of the guards for Bran were sprinting to the tiers. All rushing and shouting at the top of their lungs so the men could pass the message along to each other and shout to the men in front of them. It was a race. Most of the ones running were from Dorne. Swift and quick, even as the force of the wind tried to push them back. Reaching the first tier, they all shouted and passed the message along. Even the Dothraki understood.

They had to stick to using their archers for the moment. A wave of thirty thousand dead approached. A large chunk of the dead’s force. Some men began to tremble as a sound louder than thunder erupted from the sky. The fighters in the second, third, and fourth-tiers all gazed up at the sky in horror to see the dragons that were much greater than the Dragon Queen’s were being attacked by dragons that looked like ice. The dragons all spewed fire they had not seen before. Purple. Deep red. Dark blue. Black. There were several though, the biggest dragons. They were spewing what looked like melted metal at the Ice Dragons. Steam began to cloud the vision of the ongoing dragon fights. 

They all instead decided they would worry about the dragons as a last concern. The commanders were yelling new orders,

“Archers to the first tier NOW!! THEY ARE ATTACKING IN WAVES! ATTACKING IN WAVES!”

It was then, they all knew, it probably was best that there was an escape plan. It was good that not all of their forces were here. There was a new goal. Kill as many of the dead permanently before their retreat. The wave of the dead was now all bunched together, appearing as a wall as they drew closer. The fire outposts to mark the distance of the dead were quickly extinguishing. Closer and closer they came.

In the first tier, the archers all began to aim and fire at the dead clamoring on top of the wall they created. Slowly, the calvary forces on the north part of the tier were filling the gaps the archers in the second tier left open. The archers all rapidly reloading, and it almost seemed that they didn’t need to aim, just shoot at the wall approaching. Jaime Lannister sat high on his horse and called to the archers,

“Aim upward! Reign the arrows down on them!”

The first few rows of archers stayed at aiming straight at the wall of the dead while the middle and back rows all aimed upward, knowing the angle they need to hit. All these archers were the most experienced.

“READY. NOCK. LOOSE!”

Over and over, repeated until the wall began to heavily crumble. Many of the dead were being hit with the arrows. Their eyes were no longer glowing blue. After a few more minutes, there were only a hundred wights still running. With precise aim, they were picked off.

All the hearts of the northern section of the first tier were pounding. The bodies of the dead nearly completely covered the oil and wildfire slicks of the field closest to them. Many looked down at their arrow rations. Half of their arrows were gone. For thirty thousand wights, fifty thousand arrows had been used. Dread filled their stomachs. While there was plenty of more arrows stocked in the further tiers and Winterfell, the archers knew they had to aim with precision. None knew how long before the next wave would come. None of their own had died.

Up above, shrieking cries began to ring in their ears. Steam and clouds still prevented them from seeing what was going on up there. While there was time, the fighters in each tier scrambled to form new plans. Soldiers passed more made arrows from one to another in a chain to get them to the first tier. The archers all coming to an agreement about where to aim,

“Middle section aims for the middle. Left banks aim only left. Right banks aim right. Got it?”

“The first row of archers shoots first, the time it will take for you to reload will give time for those around you to aim and fire. The middle and back rows will continue to aim high and rain down arrows.”

“I want each of you to make each shot count. If it becomes too many at once, we will start using the catapults.”

More booming sounds echoed from the air above them. The air getting warmer from all the fire being used above. The wind still bit at their faces, but the dragon's fire warmed them all. Jaime Lannister, Lord Royce, and Prince Quentyn Martell all came to an agreement and called for the catapults to remain manned and ready to aim. The rolls of flammable hay all drenched in either oil or wildfire were in position within moments. Commands were passed all along to the first tier, followed by the second and third. Whatever time it took to accommodate to their new plans was thrown out the moment those staring deep into the edge of the forest saw many figures creep from the shadows of the trees.

Legs. Icy legs. Eight to be precise. The color drained from the faces of the North section and East section as the army seemed to be preening to attack from two sides. On the Eastside, lead by Obara Sand, James Hunter of the Vale, Assammo of the Dothraki, and a Lannister commander, the ice creatures broke through the tree line. Their glowing six blue eyes stared menacingly at the living. Their pinchers clicking together, ready to kill and taste human flesh for the first time in centuries. Each hair on their body seemed to blend with the snow around them. Only their eyes and the movement of their legs kept them from disappearing in the distance.

All know their archers would have a challenging time. Especially when several of the dozens of spiders varied greatly in size. Obara had several of her men aim for the largest spider, it was the size of a catapult, only for it to jump a great distance and completely be missed by the arrows. Five spiders followed suit to miss the arrows flying in their direction. James Hunter commanded the archers to rain arrows down on the creatures who started running towards them. The sound of their many legs against the hard freezing ground made many nauseous. 

“READY. NOCK. LOOSE!”

Only a few of the arrows pierced the smaller spiders. Obara paled,

“The hinds of the bigger ones are thicker!”

She wanted to ignite the wildfire slicks, but Obara realized the spiders would simply jump over the fire. Daring to look up, relief eased the eldest living daughter of Oberyn Martell. The golden dragon of Queen Daenerys, ridden by Arya Stark, flew through the sky with speed faster than any arrow raining fire on the speedy spiders.

On the Northern side, Daenerys flew on the back of her bonded son, ending the biggest spiders before they could reach the struggling archers. All the while, dodging the spears of the White Walkers. Jon though, Jon had made a daring move that he thought should have been tasked to the faster dragon, but Rhaegal’s fire was one of the hottest among the three.

His task was to aim for the White Walkers. To fly over the forest where visibility of the dead was low. As soon as Jon reached the tree line, a single ice spear flew to Rhaegal but was deflected by his armor. Instantly, while Jon thought of being thankful for the armor on the dragon, Rhaegal took initiative and aimed his fire at the trees where the spear flew from. Rhaegal did not stop; the dragon unleashed a sweep of fire for several moments over the distance of sixty meters before banking sharply away as another spear from a distance flew towards them. Jon regained his composure and directed Rhaegal to flew in a circle to enclose the area where the spear flew and fill the area with fire.

No more spears flew and both Jon and Rhaegal did not wait. They quickly turned and flew through the air to hover back over Winterfell. His heart racing as there was no movement for a time in the forest. _“CAW!”_ Beside Jon was a raven. Rhaegal had an eye on the small bird and seemed to understand. Suddenly, Rhaegal took control and dived towards Winterfell, then gracefully landing on the walls of the Godswood.

Upon landing, Jon observed that all the guards for Bran were making more arrows. The air was vastly different from the cold over the forest. Turning his gaze to peer at the grounds, Jon saw even more arrows being made. Hearing a rush of air, Jon turns and saw both Daenerys and Arya land on either side of him. All three made eye contact, not knowing what to say. Nothing was going as they planned yet. Below, Bran called out to them,

“JON AND RHAEGAL KILLED SEVEN WHITE WALKERS! MOST OF THEIR ICE SPIDERS ARE GONE, SEVENTY-THREE HAD ATTACKED AND THOSE ARE NOW GONE. I’M NOT SURE HOW MANY MORE REMAIN OF THE ICE SPIDERS, OR HOW MANY MORE WHITE WALKERS! BUT THEIR FORCES ARE LESS THAN WHAT THEY WERE.”

The words were a great comfort until the cry of a Great dragon rang out in the sky. Bran stilled,

“Zimrot has been injured, badly. She will have to land. She will have to rest for the remainder of this fight till-”

Another cry rang through the sky and an ice dragon fell from the misty deep grey clouds and several streams of fire followed. Daenerys watched the assorted colors of flames in awe, the fire transfixing her almost in a daze at its beauty. Below her, Drogon growled at the compliment not being directed to him. Blinking, Daenerys soothingly ran her hand along her son’s spikes to calm him. Bran blink and stared up at them,

“We greatly underestimated the forces of the dead. We should have known Jon. They only recently took Hardhome a few years ago, but we didn’t consider the centuries before that. THE DEAD WERE FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND STRONG TILL YOU KILLED THE SEVEN WHITE WALKERS! THEY ARE NOW DOWN TO ALMOST TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND OF THE DEAD!”

Everyone in the Godswood froze, the three dragon riders felt utter shock. Double. The dead were double what Jon and the Wildlings estimated. Jon cursed and then looked to the Great Dragons guarding the injured dragon to land just outside the wall. Her rider dismounting and coming to Zimrot’s head and speaking in High Valyrian. Thirteen men and women dressed in red robes surrounded the dragon joined the dragon rider in her words. The effect was slow but immediate. The gaps in the dragon’s wings were closing, the ice burns through the cut armor becoming fiery flesh. Below them, Bran spoke again,

“I am sorry that I couldn’t tell you. He is mad now. They were his friends, the White Walkers you ended. He won’t turn away. He won’t go around.

His name, I should tell you. It is Valyrian.

Yrdayss.

It means ‘The Taker of Life.’ Say his name and he may speak to you Daenerys. If he truly intends you take you as his own, he will speak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!!
> 
> Let me know what you think. This was my first attempt at writing battle. I hope my image of how the defenses of Winterfell look gives a better picture of what is going on. 
> 
> The bright green is the wildfire. If I can make a close up to show exactly how the 20 ft long and deep holes look, I will see if I can make it. 
> 
> More details will be given in the next chapter. Maybe more dialogue, but I don't really see much talking occurring during a fight. Maybe a specific POV or two next time. We shall see.


	14. Who They Saved and Who They Lost (Part 4 of 5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a long time coming. Death waits for no one, it comes in its own time. When it wants. When you least expect it.

**_Who They Saved and Who They Lost Part 4 of 5_ **

On the walls of the Godswood, the three dragons could be seen watching the tree lines. More cries of ice shattering and booms echoed through the sky till there were only sounds of living dragons in the clouds. Daenerys breathed a sigh of relief. Jon wanted to have this battle end; he wanted the war to end. He thought about asking the riders of Old Valyria, but they had made their point in telling him that Winterfell would be lost. Jon wasn’t sure how many Giants the dead had. He wasn’t sure how many more walkers there were. Bran wouldn’t say it. Arya sat on Viserion’s back, rubbing his scales absentmindedly, waiting. She looked down at her brother,

“Where are Sansa and the people now, Bran?”

Sharply, Bran turned to his sister and didn’t respond for a moment,

“If I look, he will see. He has been trying to force his magic through our connection. I cannot commune with your dragons anymore. I cannot warg into ravens. I cannot fuse with the Weirwood tree to see anything… Not till the connection is severed.”

Pulling his sleeve, Bran revealed the handprint on his arm. The skin greyish blue was covered in a noticeable frost. It looked painful. Daenerys nodded,

“Not till the connection is severed.”

A look of determined anger settled onto her face as she communicated something with Drogon. Her son and his brothers all seemed to hear it and began to whine, alerting Jon and Arya. The brother and sister shared a glance,

“What do you plan on doing, Dan- my Queen.”

Just saying her title instead of her name made his heart clench. Daenerys stilled for a moment as well, noticing the change of address. It was Bran below that broke them from their heartaches,

“That won’t matter if we are all dead. Stay focused.”

Daenerys nodded and looked to Arya,

“I am going to have an audience with the Night King. All we have to do is burn through most of his forces. Set more of the forests ablaze and enclose myself alone with him.”

Jon sat straight and declared in abrupt anger,

“You will not. It is too dangerous. You are too important.”

Those words did not sit right with both Arya and Daenerys. Seeing the anger building in Daenerys’ eyes, Arya responded,

“I will cover her Jon. You keep the White Walkers busy. There are too many lives at stake to worry about who is doing what task. This is a war for all the living, not just King’s and Queen’s.”

Before more could be said, pounding steps could be heard from the distance. Like the sound of a heavy drum, hundreds of Giants broke from the trees in the north, east, and west. Even from the distance, they could all hear the forces in the first tier yelling for the catapults to aim and fire. Jon remembered Wun Wun, the last of his kind, who met his end helping him regain Winterfell not even a year ago. The hundreds he saw clobbering towards their forces made Jon realize how much life had been lost. He couldn’t help but wonder how many the living could have had on their side if they’d been allowed past the wall sooner. An entire species are extinct. The sound of something rushing from the skies above sent his gaze to the air above the field. Crashing at an alarming rate towards the ground were the remains of ice dragons. Their mountain-sized bodies landed, causing the ground to quake violently as they buried wight giants in their span. Daenerys took to the skies, heading up to the remaining blood of Old Valyria. Jon moved to follow her, but Bran’s voice rang out,

“Pay attention! He’s going to send all that he has left now. Be ready!”

On the ground just outside the castle, Jon and Arya watched as the dragons on the ground began to stir agitatedly around their fellow great beast. The holes in her wings healed, Zimrot’s eyes bolted open and her rider got onto her back immediately. The four dragons around her cried out in anger and they all rose to the skies and out of sight. Arya looked to Bran and paled when she saw his worried expression. Jon stared at the forests around them. Arya called down to Bran,

“What’s wrong?”

Most of the fighters in the area turned to Bran and froze at the sight of the broken boys’ arm twitching. His eyes turning from grey to icy blue for a moment as Bran choked on the air he breathed. Arya leaned forward, ready to dismount in an instant. However, as quick as the moment started, Bran was back to his stoic expression and he spoke in his clipped detached tone,

“Oh no…. he…. he is testing for control over me. I am not his main target; I am just the prize. He wants a queen of his own. A wife of his own. Did any of you give Queen Daenerys Valyrian steel? She will have to fight him or become like his mother!”

Immediately, Arya and Viserion jolted from the castle wall and up to the clouds where Daenerys disappeared. Jon wanted to follow, but he knew this was their chance. The dead’s number dwindled. They had to defeat as much of the army they could today. Whomever the Night King rose after they would flee could be a problem. Jon thought of all the stubborn towns they passed along the way. Those who did not come to Winterfell wouldn’t know to head to White Harbor or Riverrun. In that span of thought, Jon wished they had been able to take numbers of all the people in the North before he left for Dragonstone. Jon wished for many things. The past year had been a rush to prepare for this day and it seemed to Jon that he only gained more to lose. The return of his siblings. The love he found with Dany. The reveal of his parents. Bran was right, none of that would matter if they were all dead.

Resolve set in and Jon urged Rhaegal to rise from the wall but to hover over Winterfell. The plan was out the window, now it was to burn as many of the dead as possible. The people in the yard with Bran busied themselves again as Jon spotted all dead moving from the trees from the west, north, and east surrounding Winterfell. Whatever Giants, Ice Spiders, and dead remained where standing, waiting to charge. Asking Rhaegal to hover close to the ground, Jon yelled out to those in in the castle walls,

“Let them charge! Let them come! Remember your routes! Be brave and strong. WE ARE THE SHIELD OF WESTEROS NOW! READY YOUR SWORDS, ARROWS, AND OTHER WEAPONS!”

In the first tier, the archers quickly counted their arrows and realized they needed more. There was no time to waste, the dead were breaking from the trees in haste. Shouts called for more arrows to the first tiers West and East, as well as North. The fourth tier, closest to the new arrows being made, relinquished theirs to move to the third, the third relinquished theirs to the second, and the second to the first. The archers lay their arrow holders beside them, calling to the swordsmen behind them,

“Fill them up as we go through them. Keep them full!”

All the swordsmen realized that the archers were the first defense. Dothraki, Dornish, Wale, and Northerners alike. The Lannister’s had fewer archers, but the numbers mattered. Every abled archer was in the first rows of the first tier, waiting to aim till they were closer. Shooting in unison would be beneficial. The dead were halfway into the field, running over one another, their blue eyes directed to the living. Their blue eyes locked on the people before them. No memories, thoughts, or emotions. Just one goal. Kill what breathes. Kill what moves with a heartbeat. Kill. Kill. Kill.

The hearts of the armed warriors beat loud in their ears. Somewhat muting the sounds they could now hear from the dead. They hissed. They screamed. They sounded like dying animals. Now that the dragons were done fighting high above, there was nothing to deter the attention of the living from what raced towards them. All their furthest fire outposts could no longer be seen. Jon Snow’s message finally made it to the first tier and iron gave strength to the archers and swordsmen alike. The first shield they were. If they died today, they would e honored so long as someone was living to remember them. The men and women alike thought of their family and friends long away and south. They would be remembered.

As the archers let loose their arrows, the dead formed another wall, climbing and running over their fallen. Haste was insistent. Row upon row of archers loosed their arrows and more still kept coming. They were getting closer and closer. The air dropped in chills the closer they came. Their half-frozen dead bodies moved with speed despite the lack of most not having muscles. Skeletons moved the fastest. The archers rained down their arrows and aimed straight. They only saw the ones they ended crushed under the dead feet of more dead.

So close, the dead were now, Obara saw each pair of eyes and their brightness. Even she joined the archers. Swordsmen had taken the place of the tiring archers. Their arms grew heavy and tight from the repeated motion over a hundred times. As the dead came within a hundred feet of the wildfire filled pits, the catapults let loose the rest of their stock before being pulled back through the openings between the trenches. The swordsmen began to inch their way to the front with the archers, their swords at hand. The archers beginning their retreat or passing their arrows to return to the next tier. The Dothraki passed their bows and arrows to those retreating and held their arakh’s and daggers in each hand, ready. Shrills, screams, wails, and war cries filled the chilling air as the dead reached the pits and began to fill the first row of the trenches. A few jumping to make it to the ground separating the rows, only to fall into the second row of trenches. Their snarls loud and echoing as the distance between the dead and the living dwindled. Those who were already tired from their roles as archers were falling back first. The openings acting as bridges caused the dead to funnel together to fit on the linear ground. Still spilling into the pits with the sheer amount racing forward. Immediately, swordsmen covered each opening, slashing at the dead and using the momentum of their motions to send their bodies into the depths of the pits.

Obara used her long spear to swipe the dead into the pits, but more and more came just as quickly. So many came close, nicking her exposed skin and armor as they got closer before she could knock them away. The archers in her area were still retreating, Giants approaching their section, even crushing a few wights in its jogging run. Their stock for the catapults almost gone and being readied to be pulled into the second tier. A fellow Dornish warrior joined her in swiping the dead away, swordsmen clamoring to get in position in their section as the archers retreated to Winterfell. Obara noticed the first row of trenches was full of the dead, the second almost full. She thought to let the third row of their section fill before pulling to the other opening to help till a giant drew closer. The catapults out of stock and being rushed to retreat. There were too many still in her section retreating.

“Where are the dragons?!”

Obara’s heart raced and the dead kept pushing forward. The fourth row now almost full, there was no choice but to close off the bridge and ignite the trenches. Beginning to shout out the orders to the other commanders, Obara saw they were having trouble holding the other bridges as well. As her stomach plummeted, a wight sliced the back of her hand as she swiped her spear again. Hissing, the trained warrior finally looked clearly at the dead and fear crept in the back of her mind. Their rotting flesh. Their icy blue eyes. Their air of death. Obara began to feel doubt for the first time in herself for many years. Her arms were tiring. The dead were still rushing. Then suddenly a streak of green and almost red flame-filled her vision. The blue that began to haunt her while awake was blinded from her sight by dragon fire. With the dragon’s flames, the pits ignited, and the force of the sudden heat forced Obara and those beside her to throw themselves back. Her ears rang in the unexpected moment of silence. She felt herself being pulled from the ground and saw the other who fell as well be directed to retreat. Her mind was dazed bur allowed herself to be handled to the second tier. As she retreated, Obara saw the Giant was gone, but the dead still rushed forward into the green flames. They threw themselves in and their blue eyes died out almost instantly. Then the dead suddenly stopped their pursuit and divided. Horror at the realization, they were being directed to find ways in. Shouts began to be recognized in her ears. The muffled sounds lingering less. The screams were now loud. Beside her, Obara turned and saw her comrade's arm had been burned badly. Her own spear only a quarter of its original size was smoking.

“Man the bridges!”

“Head to the southern first tier!”

“Head to the west first tier.”

“Close the bridges and light the pits. Go! Go! Go!”

Obara turned to her other side and saw the Dothraki that aided her and her comrade was injured, visibly bleeding. Small cuts and noticeable holes from small stabbings. He seemed fine till she noticed blood flowing from his mouth. Becoming more aware of her body, Obara stood and tried to help the Dothraki man stand. She got a good look at his face, he was no older than Trystane. He fought as if with a lifetime of skill and as Obara aided in holding his weight she felt something wet on his side. In her mind, she knew and did not want to admit it. The battle was still only early. It had only been an hour. How much longer would this last? The Dothraki’s body was going limp as they carried him further and further through the tiers. Knowing eyes were on them as they retreated. More shouts were called and Obara felt herself suddenly go weak. No longer able to carry his weight, she dropped to the ground.

In the third tier, the soldiers were shaken. All the wounds varied on the people coming from the first tier. The worst was coming now. Burns, stab wounds, parts of bellies slashed open. Many felt something stir at the sight of the few burnings, from afar they had seen the first tier being overwhelmed. Jon Snow had begun to ignite the trenches and bridges from atop the Dragon Queen’s green dragon. He made quick work of it, all saw the icy slits that looked like javelins aimed for the dragon. The Northmen did not fault Jon for accidentally burning people in his haste, but they still did not like it. In the third tier, it was Lady Lyanna Mormont who saw Obara Sand fall, trying to aid an ailing Dothraki warrior. Despite her smaller stature and small build, she broke from her men and went to help the woman. The Northerners around her just watched. Several Unsullied and Ironborn fighters saw the heavily wounded were struggling to be carried and followed suit. A Vale soldier came to the now available side of the Dothraki and took most of the weight to hurriedly carry the man to a healer. Lady Lyanna Mormont and the others helped Obara to her feet and carried her and the others too wounded to move fast enough.

When they reached the fourth tier outside the castle walls, Ellaria spotted Obara from where she had been revising the plans for the wall and rushed over. Ellaria cradled Obara’s face, Oberyn’s firstborn daughter. She tried to keep her awake and attentive, but Obara was slipping away. Ellaria saw what Obara hadn’t realized, a dagger made of bone had been embedded into her lower abdomen. The long-time lover of Oberyn felt many emotions and memories. Oberyn first introducing the two. Obara’s rare smiles when she was little. Oberyn’s proud face at her tenacity for fighting. It couldn’t end like this for Obara. Ellaria let them continue to take Obara into the castle and her heart broke more inside. Since the day Oberyn was murdered, all his daughters had fallen under her care. Ellaria had regrets then, Ellaria wished she could have somehow protected Obara better. The war raged on as Ellaria fought to try and resume her talk with the other commanders, but they all were growing distracted. Their soldiers, friends, and comrades were coming back broken and on the verge of death. Lives are lost in every war, a war with death itself had sunken the message in. No one is truly protected in battle. Any life can be claimed. Anyone can be wounded and bled. Ellaria did not know if Obara or her sisters would survive this day, she did not know if she would survive. For the first time since Oberyn’s death, Ellaria was not driven by hate or need for revenge, but by a desperate hope for survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I took a while with this one but I honestly think the motions have been set for how this is going to go. I will say that Obara's section was not the worst hit. Dread and fear seeping into Obara who prides herself on being a hardened woman, staring into a corpse and suddenly realizing what she is fighting is truly Death. 
> 
> Shout out to Lyanna Mormont being the best Northerner right now! Daenerys' forces always help each other when they can, of course, they would extend that to fellow soldiers and warriors. The last chapter of this episode will be dark. Like, depressingly dark and morbid. 
> 
> As you likely already know, a lot from season 7 and a bit further back has been fixed/retconned. Trystane is alive, Myrcella is dead, but not by Ellaria or Oberyn's daughters. 
> 
> I also wanted to show that the further tiers inward can hear everything going on in the front lines. They are getting skittish and most are frozen in fear just waiting till the dead come to them. I stated in previous chapters that more archers were rushed to the first tier, this chapter I showed that the people using swords had to rush back into position without falling into the pits of wildfire and that archers were really going through their supply. So now, most of the archers are suffering muscle tiredness and cramping. Calvary obviously is not very effective on the front lines. Archers were actually essentially vital for each wave. The catapults were not as effective as they wished either. 
> 
> Leave a review and feel free to ask questions.


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